Reading The Chicagoland Vampires
by DrPepper1990
Summary: The Cadogan vamps, Ombud, and the girls all receive letters of importance. About a package of books of the future. They must read them together. AU OOC
1. Chapter 1

Okay, so I am trying out a new fandom that needs much love.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. The awesome Chloe Neill does.

Prologue

Ethan Sullivan was sitting in his office when a knock came at the door.

"Enter" he said knowing it would be Malik and Luc to help go through the mail. Since he was the Master of Cadogan House, his own mail was looked over with a fine tooth comb.

"The post has arrived." Malik announced, as he does six days a week.

"There seems to be a mysterious package for you, Liege." Said Luc. " It doesn't have a return address on it anywhere. I have already checked if it was dangerous," he said seeing the slightly alarmed look on his Master's face.

"Wonder what it could be," Ethan replied. He took a small blade from his desk and slit the box open. Inside was two stacks of books about five books deep. There was a note on top:

Dear Master of Cadogan,

In this box are books that predict the potential future. Only you and a few others may know these exist. When you are finished reading them the will disappear, for hopefully by then that potential future will be changed for the better. You will receive visitors soon. They will be a soon to be vampire Initiate, her best friend and the Ombudsman and his team. They have all received letters asking them to be here. It would be prudent to have refreshments made available. They will arrive within the hour. Do not touch the books until everyone is present. Start with the book titled "Some Girls Bite".

Your Second and Guard Captain and a vamp named Lindsey may remain present as some of what will be read will pertain to them too.

I hope you make the right choices.

Yours truly,

CN

Seer

After reading the letter they look at each other in shock. Luc finally breaks the silence with a " hot damn".

"I guess we should get ready for the visitors. Considering how many books there are, we might want to arrange for rooms to be made available." Said Malik after a pause.

"I will go alert Margot of the need for food and drink to be delivered to my study. It will be most private there. There might be ears that should not overhear what is being read."

"I will go alert the guards. They will need to know to let them in." Said Luc. "So Chuck Merit, Catcher Bell, Jeff Christopher, and two unknowns. Those two will have to show the letter they received. Don't want to just let anyone in. I will also go get Lindsey."

The three went their separate ways only to meet back up in forty-five minutes.

~page break ~

Across town in Wicker Park, Mallory Carmichael announced to her roomie and best friend Merit, " Mail call!"

She sifted through the bills and junk mail finally coming to the letter that will change their lives forever.

"Hey I think we got invited to something. The both of us."

"Is my mother throwing a party or something?" Asked Merit.

"I don't think so. Not your parents stationary." replied Mallory.

They read the letter together:

Dear Merit and Mallory,

You don't know me. But if you decide to follow through with what is in this letter, your lives will be saved much grief. You will also become a part of supernatural history. You may not believe me yet but I am a seer. I see the future. You see I wrote several books that pertain to you two and several others. If you both choose to continue you will be in for some surprises. I ask you to pack a bag for a week's worth of clothes and nothing else. You will be spending the weeknights, possibly longer, reading those books with the Master Vampire of Cadogan House and a few of his staff. There will also be someone called the Ombudsman and his staff in attendance. Before you say no, Merit, these books center around you mostly. So choose wisely. The choices; the next few years living under the scrutiny of the city, and fear from enemies, or, a peace for the city and love for both of you and new friends. It is up to you. Be at Cadogan House in one hour and bring the letter.

I hope you choose for the better.

Yours truly,

CN

Seer

There was a moment of silence until Mallory squealed, " Oh my God! We totally have to go!"

"Wait, what if it is all a hoax?" Asked Merit.

"Seriously, who do we know who would do something like this?" Mallory asked back. "I am going to go pack! What does one wear to a vampire reading party? You go pack to Merit and something other than jeans please."

"But wait," said Merit to a now empty room. She decided to see who these people were and to confront them. She pack as Mallory asked and changed into a tight T-shirt and cute ruffled skirt. She paired them with a pair of black ballet flats. She tied her hair into her signature high ponytail. Merit met Mallory in the living room with a small duffle bag. Mallory had a larger wheeled suitcase next to her. She was wearing a knee length sheath dress with a diagonal line pattern on it. She had on kitten heels and her hair was worn down. She was currently Mapping a route to Cadogan House on her laptop.

"I still don't know if I believe anything yet, but I am going anyway. If only for the love part of the letter and as an English Lit major I want to read these books." Announced Merit, as she made her way over.

"On, just admit it. You're more interested than that. Great outfit by the way." Replied Mallory. Let's roll, chick-a-dee."

They left in Merits boxy orange Volvo, headed for Hyde Park.

~page break ~

In another part of time Chuck Merit received an email from one Ethan Sullivan. Asking if he had received a letter from the Seer. He looked over at Catcher and Jeff asked them about the letter. Jeff located the letter in the small box below the mail slot. He read it to the room:

Dear Ombudsman, Sorcerer and Shifter,

I am a seer. I recently Seen and had visions and have written a series of books involving yourself and your partners, along with the vamps of Cadogan House and also your granddaughter, Merit and her roommate. I request that you and your crew head to Cadogan within the hour to get to reading the books. They are of a potential future involving more work than you need and of a Merit that will need to know the truth about your work. Please heed my request. It will change the future for the betterment of Chicago. Please pack a bag with a week's worth of clothes. Everything else will be provided.

I hope you attend.

Truly yours,

CN

Seer

The men all looked at each other than got moving. They knew not to ignore the urging of a seer. Chuck had Jeff shoot an email to Ethan with their ETA. The he told the others to meet at Cadogan House in an hour bags in hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Even though the girls left first, the Ombud crew made it first. Even with the map they manage to get lost.

The girls walk up to the gate when Merit notices her grandfather's Oldsmobile. She points it out to Mallory. " Maybe he got a letter too?" She mused.

"Yeah, but what would my grandfather have to do with vampires?" Asked Merit.

"We're about to find out." She replied.

When they get to the gate they are met by a man or vampire wearing cowboy boots.

He asks "did you receive a letter from someone with the initials CN, says she is a seer?"

"Yes," said Merit. She handed over the letter. She explained as he read it. "We got a little lost. Turns out online maps are not that reliable."

"We thought you weren't going to show. The Ombud is already here. What are your names, by the way?"

"On I'm Mallory and this is Merit."

"Are you related to Chuck Merit?" Luc asked the dark haired beauty.

"Yes, he is my grandpa, why? And why is he here?"

"On, he is the Ombudsman," he replied.

"What is an Ombudsman?" Mallory interjected.

"The Ombud and his crew are the one's that clean up all the supernatural malfunctions or prevent them from happening."

"Are we still talking about my grandfather? He does all this and he's never told me." Merit said starting to sound upset.

"Oh, don't get upset, he wasn't allowed to tell humans. He took an oath." Luc explained gently.

"Can I go see him now? Please?" Merit asked nicely. She needed to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"Yes, follow me we are all meeting in the Master's study for privacy. Don't want outside ears to hear anything they shouldn't. Please, let me take your bags? Your rooms have already been arranged for your comfort." Luc replied, already walking to the double doors.

As soon as they crossed the threshold Merit spied her grandfather looking a bit guilty. That was all the confirmation she needed for her answer. Her grandfather held his arms out and Merit went into them willingly. "I'm sorry, baby girl you had to find out like that." Her grandpa whispered into her ear.

"It's okay, I understand that you had to take an oath."

"I'm sorry to interrupt but we are gathering a bit of an audience." Said Luc quietly. The quartet made their way up to study, with Our leading the way and Merit and Chuck bringing up the rear.

They entered the study and Luc placed the bags by the door with a slew of others. Merit looked around and did a double take across the room standing next to an unlit fireplace was the most beautifully handsome man she had ever seen. He had shoulder length blond hair and green eyes the color of emeralds. He was broad shouldered and he filled out an Armani suit amazingly well. She realized she was staring, but noticed he was staring right back. The man crossed the room to introduce himself to the newcomers. "Hello, I'm Ethan Sullivan, Master of this House."

"I'm Merit and this is Mallory." She said still not looking away. She heard a throat clear and blushed as she realized she was still holding on to his hand. She slowly pulled away like her hand had a mind of its own. Everyone in the room also failed to notice Catcher checking Mallory out. He realized that she was an untrained Sorceress. He decided to keep that to himself for now. But Jeff caught the look on his face.

" Okay, we all received roughly the same letter telling us all about these books written by a seer. The package sent to me had about ten books in it. My letter said to include all of you. I think we should all introduce ourselves to better know each other if we are going to be spending so much time together over the next few nights or weeks. As I said, I am Ethan Sullivan." The Master vampire said.

"Chuck Merit, local Ombudsman."

"Catcher Bell, Sorcerer and part of the OB crew."

"Jeff Christopher, Shifter and also part of the OB crew."

"Mallory Carmichael, amazed human."

"Merit, also amazed human."

"Malik, Second to the Master and vampire."

"Lucas, also vampire and Guard Captain, preferred to be called Luc."

"Lindsey, vampire, and I am a Guard."

"Okay, let's all get comfortable. I have a feeling it is going to be a long night," said Ethan. Before he could be seated, a light knock sounded at the door. He went to answer it, and was greeted by Margot. She pushed her cart of food, drinks and blood boxes along with glasses, plates and napkins.

"Thank you, Margot, please spread the word that we are not to be interrupted, unless it is a dire emergency."

"Yes, my Liege." She replied.

Ethan then returned to his chair. "So, we are all in agreement that we are going to read the books?" He got some nods and murmurs of agreement. "I only ask because my letter said to not touch the books until I got the agreement." He explained. "The first book to read is called 'Some Girls Bite'. Who would like to read first?" Merit outstretched her hand.

"Our letter said that the books kind of focus on me. So I just want to see if the seer got me right. Our letter also said that we would give Chicago peace, and find love." She explained looking into Ethan's eyes, which silvered so fast and then back to emerald she wasn't sure she actually seen it. The other vamps on the other hand saw it and were shocked.

" I will read the synopsis on the back first. 'They killed me. They healed me. They changed me. Sure, the life of a graduate student wasn't exactly glamorous, but it was mine.' She paused to realize that she was reading from her point of view. "I get changed to a vampire." She said quietly.

Ethan said, " we can make sure that doesn't happen, if that is what you want." Just as quietly.

"If I get changed, then all my graduate studies go down the tubes. I only have one more year left. I worked really hard the last three years. I don't know what to think yet. Maybe read more first before I make a decision." Everyone nodded for her to continue. "' I was doing fine until Chicago's vampires announced their existence to the world — and then a rogue vampire attacked me.'" There were gasps all around. This time it was only Chuck who noticed Ethan's silvered eyes before they disappeared back to green. He raised an eyebrow. But no one noticed except Ethan.

"If you are going to get attacked, then I would want you to change," said Chuck quietly.

Merit continued reading, not ready to face that possibility yet, "'But he got only a sip before he was scared away by another bloodsucker...and this one decided the best way to save my life was to make me one of the walking undead.'"

"I hate Dracula!" All four vamps exclaimed. The human girls looked over bewildered. Ethan elaborated, "were not actually undead. We have heartbeats and flowing blood."

The girls looked interested, but understanding.

"' Turns out my savior was the master vampire of Cadogan House.'" Again more gasps, but Ethan kind of figured out that it would be him to change Merit. Judging by the connection between the two of them after only a few minutes was remarkable. Merit read on,

"' Now I've traded sweating over my dissertation for learning to fit in at a Kenwood mansion full of vamps loyal to Ethan " Lord o' the Manor " Sullivan.'" Lindsey giggled and Luc laughed at that. Even Catcher had a smile on his face. Ethan groaned.

Merit also had a small smile on his face at that but read more. "'Of course, as a tall, green-eyed, four hundred year old vampire, he has centuries' worth of charm, but unfortunately he expects my gratitude— and servitude. Right...

Ethan was smiling at his description, but was sensing some possible problems already. Apparently, Merit was changed without consent, and she was not happy about being forced to follow orders. Not that he actually wanted to order her around. But it was his duty to do so as Master. Maybe later he could talk to her in private about those issues. Merit could also see these issues and was still thinking about her options. She read on.

"'But my burgeoning powers (all of a sudden, I'm surprisingly handy with some serious weaponry), an inconvenient sun allergy, and Ethan's attitude are least of my concerns. Someone's still out to get me. Is it the rogue vampire who bit me? A vamp from a rival House? An angry mob bearing torches? My initiation into Chicago's nightlife may be the first skirmish in a war... And there will be blood.' Okay that is all of the synopsis. Okay that was a lot of info. A war? And someone was still after me? I am a grad student, I don't have enemies, and you are the first vamps I have ever met..." She rambled on. She was a interrupted by Ethan, who said,

"Maybe we should actually read the book, before we jump to conclusions." He said gently, not wanting to up set her more. Merit nodded, trying to calm down.

"Can I read next?" asked Mallory. Merit handed the book over.


	3. Chapter 3

Mallory immediately started reading before someone else interrupted.

"'Early April Chicago, Illinois,' okay so we have about three months until this happens. It's only the middle of January." She said, interrupting herself. "So we have a pretty good head start."

She continued. "'At first, I wondered if it was karmic punishment. I'd sneered at the fancy vampires, and as some kind of cosmic retribution, I'd been made one. Vampire. Predator. Initiate into one of the oldest of the twelve vampire Houses in the United States.'"

" Why would you sneer at us?" Asked Lindsey, confused. She definitely wasn't fancy. Just normal as vampires come. Except for her psychic abilities.

" I guess I seen the way you guys live and made my own conclusions that you all were like my parents. I am nothing like them." Merit replied.

"Yep, Merit never did like acting like her parents." Chuck said. He added sadly, "I don't know where I went wrong with Joshua."

Mallory continued before he could get too lost in past memories. "'And I wasn't just _one_ of them. I was one of the best.'" Ethan made a hmm noise, but said nothing. Merit had a small smile. Nothing like an ego boost to brighten your day. Or night as the case may be.

Mallory kept going. "' But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let begin by telling you how I became a vampire, a story that starts weeks before my twenty-eighth birthday, the night I completed the transition. The night I awoke in the back of a limousine, three days after I'd been attacked walking across the University of Chicago campus.'"

"I was attacked at school," Merit said quietly, slowly letting it sink in. Ethan, on the other hand, was seething. He did not want to believe his angel was attacked. Wait, _his_ angel? He let it go.

"'I didn't remember all the details of the attack. But I remember enough to be thrilled to be alive.

In the back of the limousine, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to unpack the memory of the attack. I'd heard footsteps, the sound muffled by dewy grass, before he grabbed me. I'd screamed and kicked, tried to fight my way out, but he pushed me down.'" There were slight growls from the vamps. Of course, the Master's was the loudest. Merit noticed and smiled. The others looked at her like she was crazy. She blushed and looked down. Mallory read on, wanting to see what would have happened if they didn't receive these books.

"'He was preternaturally strong — supernaturally strong — and he bit my neck with a predatory ferocity that left little doubt who he was. What he was. _Vampire_. But while he tore into skin and muscle, he didn't drink; he didn't have time. Without warning, he'd stopped and jumped away, running between buildings at the edge of the main quad. My attacker temporarily vanquished, I'd raised a hand to the crux of my neck and shoulder, felt the sticky warmth.'"

"He tore out my throat!" Merit yelled, suddenly into the room.

Mallory continued, wanting to get this part over with, not wanting to hear how her best friend almost died. "'My vision was dimming, but I could see the wine-colored stain across my fingers clearly enough. Then there was movement around me. Two men. The men my attacker had been afraid of. The first of them had sounded anxious. 'He was fast. You'll need to hurry, Liege.'"

"I wonder if it is me or Luc," interrupted Malik.

"'The second had been unerringly confident. 'I'll get it done.' He pulled me up to my knees, and knelt behind me, a supportive arm around my waist. He wore cologne — soapy and clean. I tried to move, to give some struggle, but I was fading. 'Be still.'

'She's lovely.'

'Yes,' he agreed. He sucked the wound at my neck. I twitched again, and he stroked my hair. 'Be still.'"

"That's my baby girl, fighting till the end. Thank you, Ethan, for saving her." Chuck said sincerely.

"Yes, thank you, Ethan. I might not show it in the book, but I am truly grateful. You saved me." Merit said, eyes full of emotion and unshed tears. As he looked at her, a tear slowly breached her eyelid down her cheek. He was out of his seat faster than the eye could see, kneeling in front of her, wiping the tear away with his thumb gently. Their eyes met, and he whispered, "I would do it again in a heartbeat, for one as beautiful and strong as you." He was back in his seat a second later. His feelings were becoming more clearer.

After a pause, Mallory continued again. "'I recalled very little of the next three days, of the genetic restructuring that transformed me into a vampire. Even now, I only carry a handful of memories. Deep-seated, dull pain— shocks of it that bowed my body. Numbing cold. Darkness. A pair of intensely green eyes.'"

The vampires looked shocked. They all remembered their change. All of it. There should be no missing memories of that. Ethan and Malik knew that that was a sign of the change not going right. They explained this to the humans, shifter and Luc and Lindsey.

"So I'm what, a freak?" Asked Merit, heatedly. She was expecting a vamp to answer but it was actually Jeff who spoke, causing her head to whip around.

"They must have tried to use drugs to cover the pain," he said gently. "Sometimes magic and modern medicine doesn't always work well together."

"So, if we don't use pain killer drugs you should be right as rain." Said Lindsey, hoping Merit chooses to change. She could see herself being friends with her, and she could also see the hope in her Master's eyes. "If you change, of course," she added. Merit just nodded, still thinking about her future.

"Can we continue?" Asked Catcher. Everyone nodded. Mallory read on.

"'In the limo, I felt for the scars that should have marred my neck and shoulders. The vampire that attacked me hadn't taken a clean bite — he'd torn at the skin at my neck like a starved animal. But the skin was smooth. No scars. No bumps. No bandages. I pulled my hand away and stared at the clean pale skin — and the short nails, perfectly painted cherry red. The blood was gone — and I'd been manicured. Staving off a wash of dizziness, I sat up. I was wearing different clothes. I'd been in jeans and a T-shirt. Now I wore a black cocktail dress, a sheath that fell to just below my knees, and three-inch-high black heels.'"

"I am guessing my clothes were ruined, but that is so not my style." Merit said.

"Our Master is not a fan of street clothes. He prefers us to wear suits and formal wear." Said Lindsey, cheekily. She and the Master have had a few conversations about the subject. That gave Merit more to think about. Ethan then said,"Only if you are on the clock, do I ask for business wear."

" I don't see why we have to wear suits when we spend most of our hours in the house. I can see if we were on assignment, but not for guarding the House." Lindsey replied to him.

"I will give it some thought," he said back. Lindsey smiled; she knew Merit had something to do with that.

"'That made me a twenty-seven-year-old attack victim, clean and absurdly scar free, wearing a cocktail dress that wasn't mine. I knew then and there, that they'd made me one of them. The Chicagoland Vampires.'"

"You make us sound like a cult." Said Luc, chuckling.

"'It started eight months ago with a letter, a kind of vampire manifesto first published in the _Sun-Times_ and _Trib,_ then picked up by papers around the country. It was a coming-out, an announcement to the world of their existence. Some humans believed it a hoax, at least until the press conference that followed, in which three of them displayed their fangs. Human panic led to four days of riots in the Windy City and a run on water and canned goods sparked by public fear of a vampire apocalypse.'"

"Well at least if anything, we are good for boosting the economy." Said Ethan. "I wasn't actually for exposing the vampire community. I still remember the Clearings. But I was in the minority."

"'The feds finally stepped in, ordering Congressional investigations, the hearings obsessively filmed and televised in order to pluck out every detail of the vampires' existence. And even though they'd been the ones to step forward, the vamps were tight-lipped about those details — the fang bearing, blood drinking, and night walking the only facts the public could be sure about.'"

"Again that is mostly because of the Clearings. It wasn't just witches being burned at the stake, so to speak. That part was erased from history." Ethan said, adding a little more about the Clearings.

"'Eight months later, some humans were still afraid. Others were obsessed. With the lifestyle, with the lure of immortality, with the vampires themselves. In particular, with Celina Desaulniers, the glamorous Windy City she-vamp who's apparently orchestrated the coming-out, and who'd made her debut during the first day of the Congressional hearings. Celina was tall and slim and sable-haired, and that day she wore a black suit snug enough to give the illusion that it had been poured into her body. Looks aside, she was obviously smart and savvy, and she knew how to twist humans around her fingers. To wit: The senior senator from Idaho had asked her what she planned to do now that the vampires had come out of the closet. She famously replied in dulcet tones, 'I'll be making the most of the dark.' The twenty-year Congressional veteran had smiled with such dopey-eyed lust that a picture of him made the front page of the _New York Times._ No such reaction from me. I'd rolled my eyes and flipped off the television.'"

All the vamps met eyes without the humans knowing. Merit could resist glamour. Even Celina's glamour.

"'I'd made fun of them, of her of their pretensions. And in return, they'd made me like them. Wasn't karma a bitch? Now they were sending me back home, but returning me differently. Notwithstanding the changes in my body had endured, they'd glammed me up, cleaned me of blood, stripped me of clothing, and repackaged me in their image. They killed me. They healed me. They changed me. The tiny seed, that kernel of distrust of the ones who's made me rooted.'"

"I think it is because I wasn't able to give consent, and that I was made up to be different, caused the distrust," Merit said, feeling the need to explain herself. She was feeling different now, and they were only four pages in.

"That is completely understandable. But the change itself makes you closer to your Master and housemates. It creates a bond." Said Ethan.

"But, Liege, if her change did not go right, she might not have that." Said Malik.

"That could be true. But of all the cases where I have heard of bad changes they still had a connection to their Master."

They decided to keep reading to find out what happens.

"'I was still dizzy when the limousine stopped in front of the Wicker Park brownstone I shared with my roommate, Mallory.'"

"Finally I'm mentioned." Said Mallory. " Felt like it was never going to get there."

"'I wasn't sleepy, but groggy, mired in a haze across my consciousness that felt thick enough to wade through. Drugs, maybe, or a residual effect of the transition from human to vampire.'"

"And there is your proof. It was pain killers. So you should let it be known that they don't work for the transition," said Jeff.

"'Mallory stood on the stoop, her shoulder length ice blue hair shining beneath the bare bulb of the overhead light. She looked anxious, but seemed to be expecting me. She wore flannel pajamas patterned with sock monkeys. I realized it was late. The limousine door opened, and I looked toward the house and then into the face of a man in a black uniform and cap who's peeked into the back seat. 'Ma'am?' He held out a hand expectantly. My fingers in his palm, I stepped onto the asphalt, my ankles wobbly in the stilettos. I rarely wore heels, jeans being my preferred uniform. Grad school didn't require much else.'"

"Really, you prefer to dress like that?" asked Ethan still thinking about the house dress code. Maybe if the attire was black he wouldn't care too much about what his vampires wore when in the house working.

"Yes, they are comfortable." Replied Merit, looking at him.

"Hmm."

"'I heard a door shut. Seconds later, a hand gripped my elbow. My gaze traveled down the pale, slender arm to the bespectacled face it belonged to. She smiled at me, the woman who held my arm, the woman who must have emerged from the limo's front seat.'"

"That would be Helen. For some reason she chooses to wear glasses when she doesn't have to. She is who I have bring home all new Initiates, unless they choose to live in the House." Said Ethan.

"'Hello, dear. We're home now. I'll help you inside, and we'll get you settled.' Grogginess making me acquiescent, and not really having a good reason to argue anyway, I nodded to the woman, who looked to be in her later fifties. She had a short sensible bob of short gray hair and wore a tidy suit on her trim figure, carrying herself with a professional confidence. As we progressed down the side walk, Mallory moved cautiously down the first step, then the second, towards us. 'Merit?' The woman patted my back. 'She'll be fine, dear. She is just a little dizzy. I'm Helen. You must be Mallory?' Mallory nodded, but kept her gaze on me. 'Lovely home. Can we go inside?'"

"Is the dizziness normal?" Asked Chuck.

"There is usually some disorientation. Some have claimed dizziness," replied Malik.

"'Mallory nodded again and traveled back up the steps. I began to follow, but the woman's grip on my arm stopped me. 'You go by Merit, dear? Although that's your last name?' I nodded at her. She smiled patiently. 'The newly risen utilize only a single name. Merit, if that is what you go by, would be yours. Only the Masters of each House are allowed to retain their last name. That's just one of the rules you'll need to remember.' She leaned in conspiratorially. 'And its considered déclassé to break the rules.'"

"Something tells me Merit is gonna be extra snarky in these books. She is a master of snark when she wants to be," said Mallory.

Merit leaned her chin on one hand and agreed. "Here it starts."

Ethan smiled. He might not care for insubordination but he did enjoy snark and sarcasm. Of course, the other vamps caught the smile. Merit did as well as the others.

"'Her soft admonition sparked something in my mind, like the beam of a flashlight in the dark. I blinked at her. 'Some would consider changing a person without consent déclassé, Helen.' The smile Helen fixed on her face didn't quite reach her eyes. 'You were made a vampire in order to save your life, Merit. Consent is irrelevant.' She glanced at Mallory, 'She could probably use a glass of water. I'll give you two a moment.' Mallory nodded, and Helen, who carried an ancient-looking leather satchel, moved past her into the brownstone.'"

"She has had that bag for as long as I have been vampire. More than one hundred years." Said Luc, who had been quiet for a while.

"'I walked up the remaining stairs on my own, but stopped when I reached Mallory. Her blue eyes swam with tears, a frown curving her cupid's bow mouth. She was extraordinarily, classically pretty, which was the reason she'd given for tinting her hair with packets of blue Kool-Aid. She claimed it was a way for her to distinguish herself. It was unusual, sure, but it wasn't a bad look for an ad executive, for a woman defined by her creativity.'"

"Thanks for the stellar description, Merit. You made me sound awesome."

"Its cause you are. Awesome that is." Merit replied.

"'You're —' She shook her head, then started again. 'Its been three days. I didn't know where you were. I called your parents when you didn't come home. Your dad said he'd handle it. He told me not to call the police. He said someone called him, told him you'd been attacked but were okay. That you were healing. They told your dad they'd bring you home when you were ready. I got a call a few minutes ago. They said you were on your way home.' She pulled me into a fierce hug. 'I'm gonna beat the shit out of you for not calling.' Mal pulled back, gave me a head to toe evaluation. 'They said - you'd been changed.' I nodded, tears threatening to spill over.

'So you're a vampire?' she asked.

'I think. I just woke up or…I don't know.'

'Do you feel any different?'

'l feel…slow.'

Mallory nodded with confidence. 'Effects of the change, probably. They say that happens. Things will settle.' Mallory would know; unlike me she followed all the vampires related news. She offered a weak smile. 'Hey, you're still Merit, right?'

Weirdly, I felt a prickle in the air emanating from my best friend and roommate. A tingle of something electric. But still sleepy, dizzy, I dismissed it.'"

"Okay, what was that?" asked Mallory, startled and a bit confused.

"That is your magic." Said Lindsey. "Don't you know that you are a sorceress?"

"WHAT!?" screeched Mallory. She always felt different than others.

Catcher spoke up then. "Its true. I was going to pull you aside later and tell you. I can tell you are untrained. If you want we can talk later about it. But first we have to finish the book."

"Can someone else read? I don't think I would be able to concentrate." Asked Mallory. Merit held out her hand. She continued.

"I'm still me," I told her. And I hoped that was true.

The brownstone had been owned by Mallory's great-aunt until her death four years ago. Mallory, who had lost her parents in a car accident when she was young, inherited the house and everything in it, from the chintzy rugs that covered the hardwood floors, to the antique furniture, to the oil paintings of flower vases. It wasn't chic but it was home, and it smelled like it - lemon-scented wood polish, cookies, dusty coziness. It smelled the same as it had three days ago, but I realized that the scent was deeper. Richer. Improved vampire senses, maybe?'"

At this all the vamps nodded. So did Jeff for that matter.

When we entered the living room, Helen was sitting at the edge of a gingham-patterned sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles. A glass of water sat on the coffee table in front of her.

'Come in, ladies. Have a seat.' She smiled and patted the couch. Mallory and I exchanged a glance and sat down. I took the seat next to Helen. Mallory sat on the matching love seat facing the couch. Helen handed me the glass of water.

I brought it to my lips, but paused before sipping. ' I can – eat and drink things other than blood?'

Helen's laugh tinkled. 'Of course, dear. You can eat whatever you'd like. But you'll need blood for its nutritional value.' She lean toward me, touch my bare knee with the tips of her fingers. 'And I daresay you'll enjoy it!' She said the words like she was imparting a delicious secret, sharing gossip about her next door neighbor.

I sipped, discovered that water still tasted like water. I put the glass back on the table.

Helen kept her hands against her knees, then favored us both with a bright smile. ' Well, let's get to it, shall we?' She reached into the satchel at her feet and pulled out a dictionary- size leather- bound book. The deep burgundy cover was inscribed in embossed gold letters – _Canon of the North American Houses, Desk Reference._ 'This is everything you need to know about joining could Cadogan House house. It's not the full _Canon_ , obviously, as the series is voluminous, but this will cover the basics.'

'Cadogan House?' Mallory asked. 'Seriously?'

I blinked at Mallory, then Helen. 'What's Cadogan House?'

Helen looked at me over the top of her horn – rimmed glasses.

'That's the House that you'll be Commended into. One of Chicago's three vampire Houses – Navarre, Cadogan, Grey. Only the Master of each House has the privilege of turning new vampires. You were turned by Cadogan's Master- '

' Ethan Sullivan,' Mallory finished.

Helen nodded approvingly. 'That's right.'

I lifted brows at Mallory.

'Internet,' she said. 'You'd be amazed.'

'Ethan is the House's second Master. He followed Peter Cadogan into the dark, so to speak.'

If only Masters could turn new vampires, this Ethan Sullivan must have been the vamp in the quad, who bit me during round two.

This House,' I began. 'I'm, what, in a vampire sorority or something?'

Helen shook her head. 'Its more complicated than that. All legitimate vampires in the world are affiliated with one House or other. There are currently twelve Houses in the United States; Cadogan is the fourth oldest among those.' Helen sat up even straighter, so I took a wild guess that she was also a flag-flying member of Cadogan House.

Helen handed me the book, which must have weighed ten pounds. I centered it on my lap, distributing the mass.

'You won't need to memorize the rules, of course, but you'll want to read the introductory sections and have at least a passing familiarity with the content. And of course you can refer to the text if you have specific questions. Make sure to read about the Commendation.'

'What is the Commendation?'

'The initiation ceremony. You'll become an official member of the House, and you'll take your oaths to Ethan and the rest of the Cadogan vampires.'"

" Oaths?" Merit asked.

"They are pledges of fealty and allegiance to the House and Master and members. To never undermine my authority in or out of the House. To never seek to harm the House in any way. And also to defend the House and its members to the best of your ability. For life. It is a big commitment. But if made, worth it."

"So protect the House and all members at all cost. And never disobey orders from the Master. Are members allowed to have a voice at all? I mean this is America not feudal England"

"Of course, if an individual is not happy with a situation they are all free to come to me. If more than enough come to me I may change my decisions on the situation. "

"That seems pretty reasonable. But I would need all the facts before I make a decision. Cause it really is a life changing."

"Before we make any life changing decisions, can we finish reading?" asked Mallory.

"'And speaking of, payments typically begin two weeks after the Oaths are taken.'

I blinked. 'Payments?'

She gave me one of those over – the – glasses looks. 'Your salary, dear.'

I laughed nervously, the sound strangled. ' I don't need a salary. I'm a student. Teaching assistant. Stipend.' I was three years into my graduate work, three chapters into my dissertation on romantic medieval literature.

Helen frowned. 'Dear, you can't go back to school. The university doesn't admit vampires as students, and they certainly don't employ them. Title VII doesn't cover us yet we went ahead and removed you, just to avoid the squabble, so you won't have to worry about –'

My pulse thudded in my ears. ' What do you mean, you remove me?'

Her expression softened. 'Merit, you're a vampire. A Cadogan Initiate. You can't go back to that life.'

I was out the door before she was done talking, her voice echoing behind me as I rushed to the first – floor bedroom that served as our office. I wiggled the mouse to wake my computer, brought up a web browser, and log into the university server. The system recognize me, and my stomach unclench in relief.

Then I brought up my records.

Two days ago, my status had been changed. I was listed as "Not Enrolled."

The world shifted.'"

"All that work, down the tubes." Said Merit. " Maybe if they ever pass that law, I could go back. If I decide to turn that is."

I went back to the living room, my voice wavering as I fought through the quickly rising panic, and faced Helen. "What did you do? You had no right to take me out of school!"

Helen turn back to her satchel and cold out a sheath of paper, her matter irritatingly calm. " Because Ethan feels your circumstances are… particular, you'll receive your salary from the House within the next ten business days. We've already arranged the direct deposit. The Commendation is scheduled on your seventh day, six days from now. You will appear when commanded. At the ceremony, Ethan will assign your position of service within the House." She smiled at me. " Perhaps something in public relations, given your family's connections to the city. "

" Oh lady. Wrong move, bringing up the parents," Mallory muttered.

She was right. It was exactly the wrong thing to say, my parents being one of my least favorite topics. But it was at least jarring and love to wake me from my daze. " I think we're done here," I told her. "Its time for you to leave."

Helen winged up an eyebrow. "Its not your house."

Brave of her to piss off the new vampire. But we we're on my turf now, and I had allies.

I turned to Mallory with an evil grin. "How about we find out how much of the vampire myth is actually myth? Don't vampires have to have an invitation to be in someone's home?"

"I love the way you think, " Mal said, then went to the door and opened it. "Helen," she said, "I want you out of my house."

Something stirred in the air, a sudden breeze blew through the doorway and ruffled Mallory's hair – and raised goosebumps along my arms.

"This is incredibly rude," Helen said, but yanked her satchel up. "Read the book, sign the forms. There's blood in there refrigerator. Drink it – a pint every other day. Stay away from sunlight and aspen stakes, and come when he command you." She neared the door, and then, suddenly, like someone had flipped the switch on a vacuum, she was sucked onto the stoop.

"Was that the myth or more of Mallory's magic?" Asked Merit.

"It was the magic." Said Catcher. "It was Sorcerers who started that myth."

I rushed to the doorway. Helen stood on the top step, glasses askew, staring back at us in disheveled shock. After a moment, she straightened her skirt and glasses, turned crisply, and walked down the stairs and toward the limo. "That was – very rude," she called back. "Don't think I wont tell Ethan about this!"

I gave her a pageant wave – hand cupped, barely swiveling.

"You do that, Helen," Mallory dared. "And tell him we said to fuck off while you're at it."

"Sorry Ethan." Said Mallory. She was apologizing for something that wasn't likely to happen. But she still felt bad.

"Its okay. It hasn't happened and Helen might have deserved that. She should have shown a little more compassion to the fact that Merit was giving up the life she knew. That she wouldn't be like other Initiates." Ethan explained. He felt the need to reprimand Helen for something that will likely never happen. He shook away the need.

Helen turned to me, eyes blazing silver. Like, supernaturally silver. "You were _undeserving,_ " she smiled.

"I was _unconsenting,"_ I corrected and slammed the heavy oak door with enough force that it rattled the hinges. After the _scritch_ of rocks on asphalt signaled the limo's retreat, I leaned back against the door and looked at Mallory.

She glared back. "They said you were on campus by yourself in the middle of the night!" She punched my arm, disgust obvious on her face. "What the hell were you thinking?"

That, I thought, was the release of panic she'd suffered until she learns that I was coming home. It tighten my throat, knowing that she did it for me, worried me.

"I had work to do."

"In the middle of the night?!"

"I said I had work to do!" I threw my hands, irritation rising. "God, Mallory, this isn't my fault." My knees began to shake. I moved a few steps back to the couch and sat down. Repressed fear, horror, and violation overwhelmed me. I covered my face with my hands as tears began to fall.

Ethan swallowed hard, as he might have caused Merit to feel violated. He offered an apology, but Merit replied, "I don't think it was you that I felt violated by. It was that other vamp. Even then I knew you were trying to save me in the only way possible."

"It wasn't my fault, Mallory. Everything – my life, school – is gone, and it wasn't my fault."

I felt the cushion dip beside me and an arm around my shoulders.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm freaked out. I was so scared, Mer, Jesus. I know it's not your fault." He held me while I suck, rub my back while I tried hard enough to hiccup, while I mourn the loss of my life, of my humanity.

We sat there together for a long time, my best friend and I. He offered Kleenex as I replayed the few things I could remember – the attack, the second set of vampires, the cold and pain, the hazy limo ride.

When I decide my body and empty of tears, Mallory stroked my hair from my face. "It'll be okay. I promise. I'll call the university in the morning. And if you can't go back…we'll figure something out. In the meantime, you should call your grandfather. He'll want to know you're okay."

I shook my head, not get ready to have that conversation. My grandfather's love had always been unconditional, but then again, I'd always been human. I wasn't ready to test the correlation.

"Really, baby girl, you would have been scared to come to me?" Chuck said in a slightly hurt voice.

"Well I didn't know about you being the liaison between the human and supernatural world. Had you not been the Ombud, would you have been okay with it?"

"Well, Merit, I was a cop. When you have been a cop for as long as I was, you learn things. It is more than chasing perps. It's a lot of covering the things that most humans couldn't handle. Like the real reason why the river turns green for St. Pat's is because of the water nymphs. So yes, baby girl, I would have been okay with it. In fact I might prefer it, to know that there will always be a Merit around." Chuck explained to her.

To know that her grandfather actually might want her to be a vampire astounded her. But it also helped with her decision. But she still needed more facts.

"I'll start with Mom and Dad," I promised. "Then I'll let word trickle down."

"Tacky," Mallory accused, but let it go. "The House, I guess it was, did call me, but I don't know who else they contacted. The call was pretty short. 'Merit was attacked on campus two nights ago. In order to save her life we've made her a vampire. She'll return home tonight. She may be dizzy from the change, so please be home to assist her during the first crucial hours. Thank you.' It sounded like a recording, to be real honest."

"So this Ethan Sullivan's a cheapo," I concluded.

Everyone looked at each other and started laughing. It was obvious to all that Ethan was certainly not cheap.

"We'll add that to the list of reasons we don't like him."

"Him turning you into a soul-sucking creature of the night being number one on that list?"

I nodded ruefully. "That's definitely number one." I shifted and glanced over at her. "They made me like them. _He_ made me like them, this Sullivan."

Mallory made a sound of frustration. "I know. I am so effing jealous." Mal was a student of the paranormal; as long as I've known her, she'd had a keen interest in all things find and freaky. She put her palm to her chest. "I'm the occultist in the family, and yet it's _you_ , the English lit geek they turn? Even Buffy would feel that sting. Although," she said, her gaze appraising, " you will make damn good research material."

I snorted. "But research material for what? Who the hell am I now?"

"You're Merit," she said with conviction that warmed my heart. "But kind of Merit 2.0. And I have to say, the phone call notwithstanding, the Sullivan's not a cheapo about everything. Those shoes are Jimmy Choo, and that dress is runway- worthy." She clucked her tongue. "He's dressed you up like his own personal model. And frankly, Mer, you look good."

Good, I thought, was relative. I looked down at the cocktail dress, smooth my hand over the slick, black fabric. "I liked who I was, Mal. My life wasn't perfect, but I was happy."

"I know, hon. But maybe you'll like this, too.

I doubted it. Seriously.

"You could very much be happy here Merit," said Ethan, with eyes filled with something Merit couldn't place.

"That was the end of the chapter," said Merit. "Who wants to go next?" Catcher held his had out.

This is only my second attempt at writing anything. So reviews Re welcome, good or bad. My posting schedule is kind of sporadic cause I am writing on a finicky tablet. But I will finish this. Just be patient with me.

Disclaimer: Still don't own it. The characters belong to Chloe Neill I am just test driving them.


	4. Chapter 4

Reading Chicagoland Vampires Chapter Two: Rich People Aren't Nicer - They Just Have Better Cars

My parents for new - money Chicago.

My grandfather, Chuck Merit, had served the city for 30-40 years as a cop - walking and be in Chicago's South Side until he joined the CPD's Bureau of Investigative Services. He was a legend in the Chicago Police Department.

But while he brought home a solid middle-class living, things were occasionally tight for the family. My grandmother came from money, but she'd turn down an inheritance from her overbearing, old-Chicago-money- having father. Although it was her decision, my father blamed my grandfather or the fact that he wasn't raised in the lifestyle to which he thought he should have been accustomed. Burned by the imagine betrayal and irritated by childhood a living carefully on a cop salary, my father made it his personal goal to accumulate as much money as possible, to the exclusion of everything else.

He was very, very good at it.

"I tried the best I could to raise him right, but I worked a lot of hours." Chuck said, adding, "I guess he has forgotten his morals and values. Or they have changed. I don't know what went wrong."

Merit Properties, my father's real estate development company, managed and apartment complexes throughout the city. He was also a member of the powerful Chicago Growth Council, which was made up of representatives of the city's business community and which advised the city's newly elected mayor, Seth Tate, on planning and development issues. My father took great pride in, and often her mark upon, his relationship with Tate. Frankly, I just thought that reflected poorly on the mayor.

Of course, because I'd grown up a Chicago Merit, I'd been able to reap the benefits that came with the name - big house, summer camp, ballet lessons, nice clothes. But while the financial benefits were great, my parents, especially my father, were not the most compassionate people. Joshua Merit wanted to create a legacy, all else be damned. He wanted the perfect wife, the perfect children, and the perfect position among Chicago's social and financial elite. Little wonder I worshipped my grandparents, who understood the meaning of UN conditional love.

"So you never felt good enough." Asked Malik, quietly. He himself felt that way, when he was human, for wanting to marry someone who was of different social status in his tribe. He was a considered a prince in his tribe. His father was a Chief.  
"Not when I had perfect siblings who never did anything wrong, and my father thinks I have my head in the clouds with what I chose to study in grad school." Replied Merit, looking resigned. "You know I will always love you, baby girl." Chuck reminded her. Merit smiled and nodded. Ethan wanted to always see her smile.

I couldn't imagine my father was going to be happy about my new vampiric identity. But I was a big girl, so after I washed my face of tears, I got into my car - an old boxy Volvo I'd scrimped to pay for - and drove to their home in Oak Park.  
When I arrived, I parked the Volvo in the drive that arced in front of the house. The building was a massive postmodern concrete box, completely out of place next to the more subtle Prarie Style buildings around it. Money clearly didn't buy taste.

"I always hated that house." Chuck interjected. " Hard to navigate and it is not the best looking building."

I walked to the front door. It was opened before I could knock. I glanced up. Dour gray eyes looked down at me from nearly seven feet of tall skinny white guy. "Ms. Merit"  
"Hello, Peabody."  
"Pennebaker."  
"That's what I said." Of course I knew his name. Pennebaker, the butler, was my father's first big purchase. Pennebaker had a "spare the rod" mentality about child rearing and always took my father's side - snooping, tattling, and generally sparing no details about what he imagined was my rebellious childhood. Realistically, I was probably lower than average in the rebellion department, but I had perfect siblings - my older sister, Charlotte, now married to a heart surgeon and pumping out children, and my older brother, Robert, who was being groomed to take over the family business. As a single twenty-seven-year-old graduate student, even though studying at one of the best universities in the country, I was a second-class Merit. And now I was coming home with a big ol' nasty.

"I always hated Pennebaker." Said Merit. "He always tattled, even if it was something I didn't do wrong. He made it seem like it was wrong, therefore, it was."  
"I never liked him either." Chuck agreed. "He always looked at me like I was something on his shoe. Like he was better than me. When really, he was just a servant."

I walked inside, felling the whoosh of air on my back as Pennebaker shut the door firmly behind me and then stepped in front of me.  
"Your parents are in the front parlor," he intoned. "You are expected. They've been unduly concerned about your welfare. You worry your father with these," - he looked down disdainfully - "things you get involved in."

"If that were the way the servants here behaved, they would be removed from there position and reassigned." Said Ethan. He was amazed that this butler got away with speaking like that out of turn.

I took offense to that, but opted not to correct his misunderstanding of the degree to which I'd consented to being changed. He wouldn't have believed me anyway.  
I walked past him, following the hallway to the front parlor and pushing open the room's top-hinged door. My mother, Meredith Merit, rose from one of the room's severe boxy sofas. Even after 11 p.m., she wore heels and a linen dress, a strand of pearls around her neck. Her blonde hair was perfectly coiffed, her eyes pale green.  
Mom rushed to me, hands extended. "You're okay?" She cupped my cheeks with long-nailed fingers and looked me over. "You're okay?"

"So your mother does care. She just follows your father's lead." Said Lindsey. "I guess. She never stopped him when he went on a rant about bringing the family down though." Replied Merit.

I smiled politely. "I'm fine." Relative to their understanding, that was true.  
My father, tall and lean like me, with the same chestnut hair and blue eyes, was on the opposite sofa, still in a suit despite the hour. He looked at me over half-cocked reading glasses, a move he might as well borrowed from Helen, but it was no less effective on a human than a vampire. He snapped closed the paper he'd been reading and placed it on the couch beside him.  
"Vampires?" He managed to make the single word both an question and an accusation. "I was attacked on campus." My mother gasped, clutched a hand to her heart, an looked back at my father. "Joshua! On campus! They're attacking people!"  
My father kept his gaze on me, but I could see the surprise in his eyes. "Attacked?"  
"I was attacked by one vampire, but a different vampire turned me." I recalled the few words I'd heard, the fear in the voice of Ethan Sullivan's companion. "I think the first one ran away, was scared away, and the second ones were afraid I was going to die." Not quite the truth - the companion feared it might happen; Sullivan seemed supremely confident that it would. And that he could alter my fate when it did.  
"Two sets of vampires? At U. of C.?"  
I shrugged, having wondered the same thing.

"What would I be doing at the university?" Wondered Ethan. He couldn't figure that out.  
"Maybe you were sent to change me? Or at the very least, check me out, something." Merit was wondering the same thing.  
As if lightning struck, she thought she knew, but she wanted it confirmed first.

My father crossed his legs. "And speaking of, why, in God's name, were you wandering around campus by yourself in the middle of the night?"  
A spark fired in my stomach. Anger, maybe mixed with a hint of self-pity, not uncommon emotions when it came to dealing with my father. I usually played meek, fearful that raising my voice would push my parents to voice their own long-lived desires for a different younger daughter. But to everything, there is a season, right? "I was working."  
His responsive huff said plenty.  
"I was working," I repeated, twenty-seven years of pent up assertiveness in my tone. "I was heading to pick up some papers, and I was attacked. It wasn't a choice, and it wasn't my fault. He tore out my throat."  
My father scanned the clear skin at my throat and looked doubtful - God forbid a Merit, a Chicago Merit, couldn't stand up for herself - but he forged ahead. "And this whoever House. They're old, but not as old as Navarre House."

"It's not really. Cadogan House was established in Wales long before we came to America." Explained Ethan. Malik nodded his agreement. "It was my decision to relocate. Navarre may have been the oldest established in America at first, but not now."

Since I hadn't yet mentioned Cadogan House, I assumed whoever had called my parents must have mentioned the affiliation. And my father apparently done some research.

"I think it might have been your father who got me to go to the university." Said Ethan. "We don't release names of new Initiates until they awaken from the turning to the newspapers."  
"So your saying my father bought my turning?" Asked Merit, eyebrow arched. "No, I can't be bought. But he must have made you sound promising. So, I was probably going to proposition you. After of course, the guards checked you out."  
At this Luc and Lindsey waved. The others chuckled at their antics.

"I don't know much about the Houses," I admitted, thinking that was more Mallory's arena.  
My father's expression made it clear that he wasn't satisfied by my answer. "I only got back tonight," I said, defending myself. "They dropped me off at the house two hours ago. I wasn't sure if you'd heard from anyone or thought I was hurt or something, so I came by."  
"We got a call." His tone was dry. "From the House. Your roommate - "  
"Mallory," I interrupted. "Her name is Mallory."  
"- told us when you didn't come home. The House called and informed us that you'd been attacked. They said you were recuperating. I contacted your grandfather and your brother and sister, so there was no need to contact the police department." He paused. "I don't want them involved in this, Merit."

"That right there, speaks volumes." Said Jeff, who up until this point, was being rather quiet. Merit agreed, as did Chuck.

The fact that my father was unwilling to investigate the attack on his daughter notwithstanding, my scars were gone anyway, I touched my neck. "I think its a little late for the police."  
My father, evidently unimpressed by my forensic analysis, rose from the couch and approached me. I've worked hard to bring this family up from nothing. I will not see it torn down again." His cheeks were flushed crimson. My mother, who'd moved to stand at his side, touched his arm and quietly said his name.

"What does he mean, nothing?" Asked Chuck. He was a little sad that his son thought so little of him. Merit reached over and grabbed his hand.

I bristled at the "again," but resisted the urge to argue with my father's assessment of our family history, reminding him, "Becoming a vampire wasn't my choice."  
You've always had your head in the clouds. Always dreaming about romantic gibberish." I assumed that was a knock against my dissertation. "And now this." He walked away, strode to a floor-to-ceiling window, stared out of it. "Just - stay on your side of town. And stay out of trouble."

"So not only does he blame you, he is too scared of your reaction to tell you the truth." Said Catcher. He continued reading.

I thought he was done, that the admonishment was the end of it, but then he turned, and gazed at me through narrowed eyes. "And if you do anything to tarnish our name, I'll disinherit you fast enough to make your head spin."  
My father, ladies and gentlemen.

Merit snorted, "Like I care." But everyone could hear the hurt in her voice. Her grandfather squeezed her hand that he still held.

By the time I made it back to Wicker Park, I was red-eyed and splotchy again, having cried my way east. I didn't know why my father's behaviour surprise me; it was completely in keeping with his principal goal in life: improving his social standing. My near death experience and the fact that I'd become a blood sucker aren't as important as his tiny little world as the threat I posted their status. it was late when I pulled the car into the narrow garage beside the house - nearly one a.m. The brownstone was dark, the neighborhood quiet, & I guessed Mallory was asleep in her upstairs bedroom. Unlike me, she still had a job at her Michigan Avenue ad firm, and she was usually in the Loop by seven a.m. But when I unlocked the door, I found her on the couch, staring blankly at the television.  
"You need to see this," she said, without looking up. I kicked off the heels, walked around the sofa to the television, and stared. The headline at the bottom of the screen read, Chicagoland vamps deny role in murder.  
I looked at Mallory. "Murder?"

Everyone in the room leaned in further to hear better. This was something important.

"They found that girl dead in Grant Park. Her name is Jennifer Porter. Her throat was ripped out. They found her tonight, but think she was killed a week ago - three days before you were attacked."  
"Oh, my God." I dropped onto the sofa behind me, pulled my knees, up. "They think vamps did this?"  
"Watch," Mallory said.  
On screen, four men and a woman - Celina Desaulniers - stood behind a wooden podium.  
A swath of print and broadcast reporters huddled before a, there microphones, cameras, recorders, and notepads in hand.  
In perfect sequence, the quintet step forward.  
The man in the middle of the group, tall with a spill of dark hair around his shoulders, leaned over the microphone.  
"My name," he said, in a wine-warm voice, "is Alexander. These are my friends and associates. As you know, we are vampires."  
the room in rub it in flashes of light, reporters frantically snapping images of the ensemble. Seemingly oblivious to the flash of the strobes, they stood stoically, side by side, perfectly still.  
"We are here," Alexander said, " to extend our deepest sympathies to the family and friends of Jennifer Porter, and to promise to do our part to assist the Chicago Police Department and other law enforcement agencies in any way that we can. We offer our aid and condemn the acts of those who would take human life. There is no need for such violence, and it has long been abhorred by the civilized among us. As you know, although we must take blood to survive, we have long-established procedures that prevent us from victimizing those who do not share our craving. Murder perpetrated only by our enemies. And rest assured, my friends, they are your enemies and ours, alike."  
Alexander paused, but then continued, his voice edgier. "It has come to our attention that a pendant from one of Chicago's Houses, Cadogan, was found at the crime scene."

"What!?" Said Ethan, surprised. He allowed his vampires to drink occasionally, but they always had permission and the humans always knew what was going on. In fact, there hasn't been an incident since before there have been bagged blood. He explained that to everyone in the room.

"Oh my God," Mallory whispered.  
I kept my eyes on the screen.  
"Although our comrades from Cadogan House do drink from humans," Alexander continued, "they are meticulous in ensuring that the humans who donate blood are fully informed and fully consenting. And Chicago's other vampires do not, under any circumstances, take human blood. Thus, it is our belief, although only a hypothesis at this early time, that the medal was placed at the scene of the crime solely to inculpate the residents of Cadogan House. To suggest otherwise is unjustified supposition."  
Without another word, Alexander fell back in line next to his comrades.  
Celina stepped forward. At first she was silent, her gaze scanning the reporters in front of her. She smiled softly, and you could practically hear the reporters' sighs. But the innocence in her expression was a little too innocent to be believable. A little too forced.

"You know, you see a lot of details." Said Luc. " More than most. You would make a great guard." Ethan thought that she would make a great Sentinel. But that title wasn't used anymore.

"We are devastated by the death of Jennifer Porter," she said, "and by the accusations that have been leveled against our colleagues. Although Navarre House vampires do not drink, we respect the decisions of other Houses to engage in that practice. The resources of Navarre House are at the city's disposal. This crime offends us all, and Navarre House will not rest until the killer is caught and prosecuted."

"Wow, way to throw Cadogan under the bus." Said Mallory. "Is Celina Desaulniers always like that?"  
"What I'd like to know, is how did a medal get out of the House," asked Ethan, without answering Mallory's question.  
"There has to be a traitor in our midst." Answered Lindsey. She decided to keep a better eye on everyone. "I mean, there was a reason that we were given these books and told to tell no one." "To answer your question Mallory, Celina Desaulniers has always been a little sneaky. But I do know she will do whatever it takes to keep her House innocent.

Celina nodded at the bank of reporters, then turned and walked off screen, the rest of her vampires falling in line behind her.  
Mallory muted the television and turned back to me. " What the hell have you gotten yourself into?"  
"They said the Houses aren't involved," I pointed out.  
"She says Navarre isn't involved," Mallory said. "She seems pretty willing to throw the other Houses to the wolves. And besides, vampires were involved when you turned up almost dead. A vampire attacked you. That's too many fangs to be coincidental."  
I caught the direction of her thoughts. "You think I'm, what, number two? That I was supposed to be the second victim?"  
You were the second victim," she said. She used the remote to turn on the television. "And I think it's an awfully big coincidence that your throat was ripped out on campus. It's not exactly a park, but its close enough. Look," she said, pointing back at the television.  
A picture of Jennifer Porter, a small ID card, filled the scrtou. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, just like me.  
We shared a moment of silence.

"Correction. You both notice a lot of details." Luc said to the human girls.  
"Well, I am an ad firm executive for a reason." Said Mallory.

"And speaking of heinous people," Mallory finally said, "how was the visit home?" Mallory had met my parents only once, when I couldn't hold off an introduction any longer. She'd just adopted the blue hair regimen. Needless to say, they weren't impressed. Creativity, even if benign, was not tolerated in the Merit house. After one visit, during which Mal had barely avoided socking my father in the jaw, I decided not to force them on her again.

"What did he do?" Asked Lindsey, curiously.  
"He called me a freak to my face." She replied. "And I didn't like the way he was talking to Merit."  
"I would have decked him for sure." Said Lindsey, back

"Not great."  
"I'm sorry."  
I shrugged. My expectations were low going in, just not as low as they should have been." I took a long look at the giant Canon on top of the coffee table, then reached out and pulled it onto my lap. "They were concerned, I guess, but mostly I got a lecture about embarrassing the family." I put my hands in the air, waggled my fingers for dramatic effect. "You know, the Chicago Merits. Like that means anything."  
Mallory snorted softly. "Unfortunately, it does mean something. You only have to look at the Trib to know that. Did you go see your grandpa?"  
"Not yet."  
"You need to."  
"I will," I quickly replied, "when I'm up to it."

"I can't believe you are scared to come to me," said Chuck, sadly. "When have I given the impression that I would have taken it bad?" "I don't know," said Merit, quietly. Ethan came to her rescue.  
"It is something all unconcenting vampires go through. To tell there loved ones. Mallory and her parents already knew so it wasn't an issue." He explained, but didn't elaborate on how he knew that.

"Bullshit," she said, grabbing the cordless phone from its cradle next to the couch. "He is more of a father to you than Joshua ever was. And you know he's always up. Call him." She handed the receiver over, and I clutched it, stared down at the rubbery blue buttons.  
"Damn it," I muttered, but punched in his number. I lifted the phone to my ear, clenching my hand to control the shaking, and silently prayed that he could be understanding. The phone rang three times before the machine kicked on.  
"Hi, Grandpa," I said at the beep. "It's Merit. I wanted to let you know I'm home and I'm okay. I'll come over as soon as I can."  
I hung up the phone and handed the receiver back to Mallory.  
"Way to be an adult," she said, reaching across the couch to return it to its cradle.  
"Hey, I'm pretty sure I can still kick your ass, undead or not."  
She snorted disdainfully. She was quiet for a moment, then cautiously offered, "Maybe something good could come from this."  
I slid her a sideways glance. "Meaning?"  
"Meaning, maybe you could get laid?"

"Mallory!" Exclaimed Merit, red faced with embarrassment. There were a lot of guys in the room, including her grandfather.  
"What? I didn't say it the book did!" She said in return.

"Jesus, Mallory. So not the point," I said but gave her points for the hit on my nonexistent dating life. Mallory blamed the cold spell on me, said I "didn't put myself out there." What was that supposed to mean? I went out. I hung out in coffeehouses, went to English department FACs. Mallory and I went out almost every weekend to catch bands, Chicago being a hub for touring Indies. But I also had to focus on finishing my dissertation. I'd assumed there'd be time for boys after. I guess I had an (undead) eternity for it now.  
Mallory put an arm around my shoulder, squeezed. "Look. Your a vampire now. A vampire." She looked me over, took in the Cadogan makeover. "They've definitely improved your fashion sense, and pretty soon you'll have this whole goth chic undead thing going on."  
I lifted brows.  
"Seriously. You're tall, smart, pretty. You're like eighty percent legs." She cocked her head and frowned at them. "I hate you a little for that."  
"You've got better boobs," I acknowledged. And just like we'd done each time we'd had the boobs-versus-legs conversation, we looked down at our chests. Ogled. Compared. My boobs were fine, if a little on the small side. Hers were perfect.

Both girls were red this time.  
"This is what girls argue about?" Asked Catcher. He had been reading mostly, instead of asking the questions, but this threw him.  
It was Lindsey who answered. "Of course. Body part comparison is common among female friends." Catcher just shook his head and continued reading.

"So I do," she finally said, but waved a hand dismissively. "But that's beside the point. The point is, you're great looking, and although it personally irks you, you're the daughter of Joshua Merit. Everyone knows his name. And for all that, you haven't had a date in, what, a year?"  
Fourteen months, but who was counting?  
"If you're out there doing your hot new vampire thing, it could open up a new world for you."  
"Right, Mal. That's a phone call home I'm gonna make." I raised my hand, arched my fingers to mimic a telephone receiver. "Hi, Dad. It's the daughter you barely tolerate. Yeah, I know you're disappointed I'm the walking undead, but vampire guys are seriously hot." I mimicked hanging up the phone. "No, thanks. I'm not going to date a vampire."

Merit noticed Ethan looked dejected at this. She caught his eye and mouthed, "not true." She also caught his smile. No one noticed the interaction between them.

She put her head on my shoulder. "Hon, you are a vampire."  
I rubbed my temples, which were beginning to throb. "I know, and it sucks. I don't want to talk about this anymore."  
Mallory sighed impatiently, but didn't say anything else about it. She pushed back into the couch cushions and tapped the cover of the guide to vampire life, still closed on my lap, with a finger. "So, you're going to read it?"  
"I should probably understand the ground rules. And since I have all night..."  
"Well, I don't have all night." She rose and stretched. "I've got to get some sleep. I've got an early meeting. Have fun with your vampire book."  
"Night, Mal. Thanks for waiting up."  
"No problem. I'll call U of C tomorrow and let you know what they say about reenrolling." She walked out of the room, but peeked back in, her hand wrapped around the oak doorframe. "Just to review, your pissed about being made vampire, and we hate this Ethan Sullivan guy, right?"  
I thumbed through the Canon's thick, ancient looking pages, scrolling through the acknowledgements and the table of contents, my drifting gaze stilling when I got to the title of chapter two: "Servicing Your Lord."  
"Oh, yeah," I assured her. "We hate him."

After everyone finished laughing, Ethan looked at Malik and said, "Maybe we can see about changing the titles of the chapters." Malik nodded.

I slept on the couch, book in my hands. I spent the final hours of the evening, long after Mallory had dragged herself upstairs, pouring through the Canon. I was wide awake for the review, the transition to vampire already reversing my sleep schedule, at least until the wave of exhaustion hit me at sunrise. As dawn approached, I could feel the sunn creeping up, preparing to breach the horizon. As it rose, so did the weighty drowsiness. What was it that Carl Sandburg had said about fog? That it creeps in like a cat? That was how the exhaustion came. It crept in silent but accurately there, and covered me like a heavy velvet blanket.  
But where falling asleep was incremental, I woke suddenly, finding myself wrapped in an ancient musty quilt. I unravel my limbs, and looked out to see Mallory on the love seat in jeans and a Cubs T-shirt, staring at me curiously.  
"Were you trying to mummify me?"  
"There are windows in the room," she pointed out, "and you are too heavy to get upstairs. I leave you exposed to the sun all day and I definitely don't get this month's rent." She rose, walked closer, and look me over. "No burns or anything?"  
I threw the blanket on the floor and surveyed my body. I was still in the slinky cocktail dress, and the parts of skin that should looked fine, maybe better than they had before the change. And I felt a helluva of a lot better then I had the night before, the sluggishness having finally cleared. I was now a healthy bloodsucking vampire. Yay!  
"Nah," I told her, sparing her the internal monologue. "I think I'm good. Thanks."  
Mallory tapped nails against her side. "I think we need to spend a little time tonight, you know, checking you out. Figuring out what we're dealing with, what your needs are. Write down stuff you might need."

"Usually, a new Initiate is told these things before the change." Said Ethan." Helen was trying to tell you, but he didn't get that far."  
"That is a good alternative though." Said Malik. Ethan nodded in agreement. Trial and error was the next best thing.

I lifted my brows skeptically. Mallory was brilliant, without a doubt. Case in point: she landed the job as an advertising executive at McGettrick - Combs right after college - literally the day after she graduated from Northwestern. Said Mallory: "Mr McGettrick, I want to work for your firm." Said grumpy, balls to the wall Alec McGettrick: "Be here at eight a.m. Monday morning."

Catcher was going to have to break her heart. He realize she got the job using magic. That was a big no no. There was still a chance she got the job on merit alone, but it was a long shot.

But Mallory was an idea person, not a detail person, which was probably why she was so valuable to Alec and crew. For her to suggest that I make a list - well, that just wasn't typical Mallory.  
"You feeling okay, Mal?"  
She shrugged. "You're my best friend. Least I can do." Mallory cleared her throat, looked blankly at the wall. "That said, the refrigerator is now filled with blood that was delivered before you woke up, and there's an eight hundred number on the side to order more." Her mouth twitched, & I could tell she was trying not to laugh.  
"Why are you chortling at my food?"  
She closed her eyes. "The company that does the vampire delivery thing? Is called blood 4 you. Unoriginal much? I mean, they've got a captive audience, but still, take your branding seriously, for Christ's sake. They need a new name, new image, repackaging..." her eyes glazed over, probably as potential logos and mascot dance in her head to the soundtrack of the Jingle she's no doubt already conceptualized.

Everyone looked at her. "What?" She said, confused. "I take my job very seriously."  
This made Catcher happy. It seemed she didn't actually use magic unknowingly. She really was very good at her job. He really hope to talk to her later. He saw she was beautiful, and smart, and funny.

"Never mind," she finally said, shaking her head as if to clear it. "I'm not at work. In more important news, I bought a leather curtain for your bedroom. It's huge, so it completely covers the window that should give you a safe place to crash, although it totally clashes with the decor." She looked critically around the room. "Such as it is."  
when Mallory moved in, he hadn't made any changes to the brownstone beyond divvying of bedrooms, stocking the fridge, and adding electronics. So the decor, such as it was, remained Aunt Rose-ish. the woman took her name seriously, and covered virtually every free surface with flowered doilies or throw rugs. Even the wallpaper was. It with cabbage sized roses.

Ethan was appalled, but he tried not to show it. Mallory explained how she was planning to redecorate more to her style. Make it more hers.

"Again, thanks."  
"In case it matters, you were actually sleeping."  
I grinned at her. "You checked?"  
" I held a finger under your nose. I didn't know if you were breathing, or if you just kind of...died. Some books a vampires do that, you know, during the day."

"I believe that it is a little bit of both." Explained Luc. "We breath but we generally don't move. Unless, during extreme emotions, like love, lust, or danger."

And Mallory, being a student of the occult, would know. if she hadn't been so well matched to her job out of Chicago ad agency, she would have dedicated her life to vampires and the like - and that was even before she knew they were real. As it was, she put in the time during her off hours. And now she had me, her own little in-house vampire pet. Vampet?  
"It felt like sleep," I confirmed, and stood, laying the book on the floor between us and realizing what I was wearing. "I've been in this dress for twenty four hours. I need an excruciatingly long shower and change of clothes." "Knock yourself out. And don't use all my conditioner, dead girl."  
I snorted and walked to the stairs. "I don't know why I put up with you."  
"Because someday you want to be as kick-ass cool as me."  
"Please. Your a total fang hag."

"What, exactly, is a fang hag?" Asked Chuck and Jeff at the same time. Everyone laughed.  
Lindsey explained, "A fang hag, is someone who is interested in all things vampire. Generally a female someone."

Laughter issued from the living room. "We're going to have some serious fun with this."  
I doubted that, too, but I'd wallowed enough, so I swallowed my doubts and padded upstairs.

"Well I guess I am going to be a Debbie downer." Said Merit.  
"Maybe it gets better." Replied Ethan.  
"Maybe."

I avoided looking at the bathroom mirror just in case I'd find no reflection there, but stood beneath the shower head till the hot water ran out, cherishing the prickles of heat, and thinking about my new... Existence? Helen had mentioned the basics - stakes, sunlight, blood - but she avoided the metaphysics. Who was I? What was I? Soulless? Dead? Undead?  
Forcing myself to space at least part of the issue, I brushed a hand over the fogged mirror, praying for a reflection. The steam swirled in the small bathroom, but revealed me, damp and mostly covered by a pink bath sheet, the relief in my expression obvious.  
I frowned at the mirror, tried to puzzle out the rest of it. I'd never been explicitly religious. Church, to my parents, was an excuse to show off Prada loafers and the newest Mercedes convertible. but I'd always been quietly spiritual. I tried, my parents notwithstanding, to be grateful for the things I've been given, to be thankful for the things that reminded me that I was a small dog in a very big wheel: the lake on a moodily a cloudy day; the gracious divinity of Elgar's "The Lark Ascending"; the quiet dignity of a Cassatt painting at the Art Institute.  
So as I shivered, naked and damp, in front of the bathroom mirror, I raised my eyes skyward." I hope we're still okay."  
I got no answer, but then, I didn't really expect one. Answer or not, it didn't matter. That's the thing about faith, I guess.

"They're actually a lot of spiritual vampires, myself included." Said Malik. Ethan also nodded.  
"There is no discrimination with vamps when it comes to what you choose to believe in. We all have so many different backgrounds. Some still believe in religions that no longer exist." Ethan explained further.  
"That is actually pretty cool." Merit said.

Twenty minutes later, I emerged downstairs, clean and dry, and back in jeans. I'd settled for a favorite low waisted pair and teamed it with a pair of two things layered t-shirts in white and pale blue that match my eyes, and a pair of black Mihara Pumas. At three inches short of six feet, I had no need for heels. The only accoutrement missing from the ensemble was the black elastic I kept on my right wrist for hair emergencies. Today, I'd already pulled my dark hair up into a high ponytail, leaving the fringe of straight cut bangs across my forehead.  
I found Mallory downstairs in the kitchen. She sat on a stool at the kitchen island, a Diet Coke on the counter before her, a copy of Cosmo and her hands. "What did you learn last night in your vampire bible?" she asked, without looking up.  
preparing myself for the retelling, I nabbed a soda from the refrigerator, popped the tab, and slid onto a stool next to her. "Like Helen said, they're twelve vampire Houses in the United States; three in Chicago. The House arrangement is kind of... Well, think feudal England. Except instead of a baron, you got a Master vampire in charge of everything."  
"Ethan," she offered.  
I nodded my agreement. "For Cadogan, Ethan. He's the most powerful vamp in the House. The rest of the vampires are basically his minions - we have to take an oath to serve him, swear our allegiance, that kind of thing. He even gets a fancy title."

"Minion? Do I look like a short, yellow dude?" Asked Lindsey, laughing.

She looked up, brows lifted.  
"He's my 'Liege.'  
Mallory tried unsuccessfully to hide a snicker - which ended up sounding strangled and anemic - before turning back to her magazine. " You have to call Darth Sullivan your Liege?"

Everyone looked at Ethan, who laughed. "Really, Darth Sullivan? I'm not that awful."

I grinned. "Only if I expect him to answer."  
She snorted. "What else?"  
"The Houses are like" - I paused to think of a good analogy - "company towns. Some vamps work for the House. Maybe guards or public relations folks or whatever. They've got administrators, docs who work outside the House, even some historic positions. All of them get a stipend."  
"Historic positions?"  
I took a sip of my soda. Ethan has a 'Second,' like a second in command or something."  
"Ooh, like Riker?"  
Did I mention she also loves Star Trek: The Next Generation? sure." There's also a 'Sentinel,' which is like a guard for the House."

"You do know that most Trekkies and Star Wars fans don't get along, right," asked Luc.

"For the brand?"  
I nodded at the apt metaphor. "Exactly. And the House itself is in Hyde Park. Think mansion."  
Mallory looked appropriately impressed. "Well. If you're going to be attacked and unwillingly made a vampire, let it be a rich and fancy vampire, I guess."  
"That's an argument."  
"How many Cadogan vamps?"  
"Three hundred and eight nationally. Eighty-six actually live in the House proper. They get dorm rooms or something."  
"So these vamps live in a mansion slash frat house, and you get a stipend just for having pointier teeth." She cocked her head at me. "How much cash is it exactly?"

"Does this look like a frat house?" Asked Ethan.

"Decent. Better than TA-ing."  
"Minus the free will."  
"There is that."  
Mal cleared her throat, put the can on the counter, linked her hands together, then looked over at me. I guess I wasn't going to like whatever confession she was about to make.  
"I called the university."  
The tone in her voice made my heart sink. "Did you tell them none of this was my choice?"  
Her gaze dropped to the counter. " Merit, they don't admit vampires. They don't have to do it legally, and they're afraid of the lawsuits if one of you was to, you know" - she frowned, waved a hand in the air - "with the teeth and the biting. Honestly, if Helen hadn't done it, the university would have dropped you when they found out."  
That seed of hatred unfolded, sprouted. "But I wouldn't have told them," I persisted. "How else would they have known? I could have rearranged my schedule, taken night classes..."  
Mallory shook her head, handed me, with somber expression, a folded newspaper that lay on the tabletop. It was the morning's Trib, open to a page that bore the word CONGRATULATIONS! in bold Gothic letters across the top. I popped the paper open. The banner topped off of full page ad in the lifestyles section. A list of names, twelve columns of them, a dozen names in each column. The text read: The North American Vampire Registry congratulates the following new Initiates. May your service be fruitful and fulfilling.  
I scanned the houses Navarre, McDonald, Cabot, Cadogan, Taylor, Lincoln, Washington, Heart, Lassiter, Grey, Murphy, Sheridan. My name was listed in the Cadogan column.  
My stomach clenched.  
"Some reporters called," Mallory quietly said. "They left messages on the machine. They want to talk to you about being a vampire. A Merit vampire."  
"Reporters?" I shook my head and chucked the paper back onto the table. "I can't believe this. I can't believe they'd do this. That they'd out me." I scrubbed my hands across my face, tried to contain the anger that was beginning to well.  
"Are you okay?" Mallory asked.  
I dropped my hands and looked at her, willing her to understand. "I could have pretended, made sure no one knew. All I had to do was take evening classes, which wouldn't have been so hard. My committee would have worked with me. Goddamn it! I didn't even get a chance to try!"

"She is gonna lose it." Warned Luc.

The fury rose, quick, hot, and strong. It itched beneath my skin like my body was one size too small to contain it. Like my body didn't fit. I rolled my shoulders in irritation, that anger still swelling.  
I wanted to hit something. Fight something. Bite something. I slowly turned my head, cast covetous glance at the refrigerator.  
"Jesus H., Merit."  
I flicked a glance her way. Mallory's eyes were wide, her hands clenched at the edge of the countertop. I heard the quick, flat double thudding of a drum, and realized it was the thump of her heartbeat.  
"What?" I whispered.  
she reached out a hand, but snatched it back. "Your eyes. Your irises are completely silver."

"Your hearing is that good?" Asked Merit. She was awed at the level of their senses.  
"You have no idea." Said Ethan. "All the senses are heightened. Taste especially."  
"That sounds awesome, but also kind of scary. I guess it is something that I would need to get used to, if I turned."

I ran from the kitchen to the first floor bathroom, flipped on the light, and stared at myself. She was right. The blue of my eyes had become gleaming silver, the pupils dilated to pinpricks.  
Mallory squeezed into the tiny powder room behind me. "You got angry. It must happen when you get angry."  
Angry or thirsty, I silently amended, since I just considered drinking blood as a means of stress relief.

"It could also be triggered by lust and sex." Said Luc, trying not to make the girls blush.  
"That could be embarrassing," said Mallory.

"Open your mouth."  
My eyes still silver, our gazes met in the mirror. I hesitated for a moment, having to work up the courage for it, knowing what I see when I did.  
I opened my mouth, saw the fangs that had to descended from my upper jaw. My eyeteeth had lengthened, the tips becoming longer, sharper. That must have happened when I considered raiding the refrigerator. I'm not sure what it said about who I was now that I hadn't noticed at the time.  
I murmured a worried curse.  
"Those weren't there before."  
"I know," I bit out.  
"I'm sorry, but that is wicked fucking cool."  
I snapped my mouth shut, and pointed out through a clenched jaw, "Not so cool the first time I get the urge to make you an afternoon snack."  
"You wouldn't do that."  
Her tone was easy, wholly confident, but I had no such faith. "I hope not."

"Now I want to know how she reined in the anger." Said Luc. He was surprised she was able to fend off the first hunger.  
"Well, we know her change didn't go smoothly." Reminded Ethan.  
"But still, to tamp it down like that."

She picked up a lock of my straight, long hair. "Your hair is darker." She cocked her head at name. "Maybe 'sable,' instead of 'chestnut'. And your skin is paler. You have this kind of...undead glow."  
I stared at my reflection. She was right - darker hair, paler skin, the stereotypical vamp.  
"What else do you feel? Stronger? Better hearing? Eyesight? Any of that?"  
I blinked at my reflection. " I see the same stuff, and my hearing level is the same." I thought of the smells of the house, the richness there. "Maybe a little better sense of smell? And I'm not bombard it or anything, but when I got excited, I could kind of sense new things." I didn't mention the prickle in the air I'd felt around her, or the fact that the new things I could sense included the resounding thud of her heartbeat.

"So I am guessing that the senses get better with age, since mine seem to be the same, except for the sense of smell." Merit concluded. The vamps nodded.

Mallory leaned against the doorframe. "Since my hands-on experience with the walking dead is, like, eighteen hours old, this is just a guess, but I bet there's an easy way to take care of this silver eyes problem."  
This should be good. "And that would be?"  
"Blood."

"Normally, that would work, but you haven't had the First Hunger yet. you will just have to calm down normally." Said Ethan. "The old fashioned way."

we put it on island, along with a martini glass, and iced tea glass, a food thermometer, a bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup, and a jar of olives, both of us unsure how best to attack. Mallory jabbed the bag with the blunt end of a bamboo skewer. It gurgled, and the depression on one side of the medical grade plastic slowly filled back in. She made a sound of disgust and looked at me with sympathetic eyes. "Jesus, Merit."

" You definitely don't need all that." Laughed Lindsey, "you just drink it. I promise you'll like the flavor."

I nodded and looked down at the bag of type O. It was one of the seven that had been delivered. There was one of each type - A, B, AB - and three extra bags of O. It was supposed to have universal appeal, I guess.

"More like it is the most readily available." Said Luc.

"Liquid, liquid everywhere and not a drop to drink," I observed.  
"Ugh. English lit geek much?"  
"Corporate oppressor."  
"Nerd."  
"Blue-haired weirdo."  
"Guilty as charged." She pick up the iced tea glass and hand it to me. " Now or never, Merit. She said you needed a pint every other day."  
"I'm kind of assuming that's an average. You know - four pints a week, give or take, averaging to one every other day. And I probably had one before they dropped me off yesterday. So I don't really need to open it until tomorrow."  
Mallory frowned at me. "You don't even want to try it? It's blood, and you're a vampire. You should be ripping at the plastic with those sharp ass teeth just to get to the stuff." She held up the bag between two fingers, waggled it in the air. "Blood. Yummy, delicious blood." The crimson liquid shuffled back and forth in the bag as she waggled it, making little waves in a tiny, self-contained ocean. And it was making me sea sick.

"That is also not normal." Said Malik.

I put a defensive hand over my abdomen. "Just put the bag down, Mallory."  
She did, and we stared at it for another few minutes until I looked up at her. " I think I'm just not hungry for it. Surely it would be more appealing if I really, really wanted it."  
"Are you hungry for anything?"  
I scanned the library of cereal boxes on top of the refrigerator, the stash owing in part to Mallory's preparations for the rumored vampire apocalypse. "Hand me the box of Chunkee Choco Bits. The marshmallow kind."  
"Done and done," she said, and slid off her stool. She went to the refrigerator, reached up, grabbed the box, and walk back to hand it over. I opened and reached into it, grabbing a handful of cereal, then picking through it to get to the marshmallows, which I popped into my mouth. "None for you?"  
"Mark's coming over," she carefully said, "if that's okay with you."  
Mark was Mallory's sweet but aimless boyfriend. I gave them two more weeks. "Fine with me. Make him bring Chinese. But if he annoys me, I'll probably have to bite him."

"It's weird to read about a boyfriend you have yet to have." Said Mallory. "Let alone one that is going to be dumped in two weeks.  
For some reason this made Catcher happy. He would try to get the girl before this buffoon they were reading about.

She rolled her eyes. " Vampire bitch."  
I shrugged and picked through another handful of cereal. "I'm just warning you, I'm probably going to be a total hard-ass vamp."  
Mallory snorted and walk out of the kitchen, calling out, "Yeah well, you've got a purple marshmallow on your chin, hard-ass vamp.  
I peeled it away and, between my thumb and index finger, flicked it into the kitchen sink. Stuff like that was going to ruin my reputation.

Everyone laughed. Merit on the other hand turn red.

At twenty five, Mark Perkins decided he wanted to swim the English Channel. At twenty six he decided he wanted to climb Everest. Then it was Machu Picchu, base jumping, ghost hunting and New Orleans and racing the Utah Salt Flats. Unlike Mallory, who rarely planned, Mark planned with a vengeance.  
He just never actually did anything.

" What is the point of that?" Asked Catcher. He understood having ambitions, but to never actually do anything? He didn't understand that.  
"Maybe he is just a guy with big dreams. But doesn't know how to achieve them." Mallory said, coming to the aid of a possible would be boyfriend.  
Catcher didn't like that she was sticking up for another man, but kept it too his self and continued reading.

Tall and thin with short brown hair, he blew through our front door like a tempest, arms laden with Guide books, maps, and two paper bags with greasy bottoms.  
"Chinese!" Mallory squealed, leaping to the front door when he came it. She pecked his cheek, grabbed a bag of food, and headed to the kitchen. I'd been reading again, so I returned the book to its spot on the coffee table.  
He nodded in my direction, dumped his own books on the love seat, and followed Mallory. "Merit."  
"Hi, Mark." I gave him a little finger wave and rose from the couch, bit I paused before following him to check his literature. On the couch, their glossy, mountain-pictured labels read: 'The Greatest Adventure Book Ever, Climbing for Dummies, and Your Big Fat Swiss Adventure.' The Matterhorn, apparently, was next on Mark's list. Poor, sweet, dumb Mark.  
"She's gone fang, Mark," Mallory called out. "So be careful."  
Halfway to the kitchen, Mark stopped mid stride and turned to face me, grinning like an idiot. "Kick. Fucking. Ass."  
I rolled my eyes and snatched the remaining bag of Chinese." Kick your own ass. Did you get crab rangoon?"  
He frowned. "What do vampires need with crab rangoon?"  
We moved into the kitchen. I put the bag on the kitchen counter and picked through it until I found the paper box of fried crab and cream cheese stuffed dough and a container of sweet and sour sauce. I pop them both open, dipped a wrap in the sauce, and bit in. They were still hot - and I groaned happily at the taste sweet, salty, crispy, creamy. Everything a newly changed vampire could want.  
"Orgasms, apparently," Mallory snarled, and pulled out her own containers of food. She pulled them open, then broke open a set of chopsticks, and stared into the container, pulled out a chunk of broccoli, and munched.  
"So, how long have you been the walking dead?" Mark asked.  
Mallory choked. I thumped her, ever so helpfully, on the back.  
"I'm on day two," I told him, and pulled out another bit of fried wanton heaven. "So far, its been uneventful."  
Famous last words, those.

"Oh, God, whats going to happen?" Wondered Merit.  
"Hopefully almost nothing in these books." Said Ethan. He said almost, because he was certain he wanted a relationship with Merit. And he could also see that Catcher had a thing for Mallory.  
Merit calmed down when he said that.

We've been eating about ten minutes when we heard glass shatter in the front of the house. Our head snapped up at the sound. We stood simultaneously, but I motioned Mark and Mallory back down. Mallory's eyes widened, and I guessed what she'd seen: my blood hummed with adrenaline, and I knew my eyes had gone silver.  
"Stay here," I told them, and walked across the kitchen. I slipped off the overhead light and moved into the unlit hallway. There were no other sounds in the house, and I didn't hear anything outside - cars revving, people screaming, sirens blaring. Carefully hugging the walls, I crept into the living room. The living room window - a picture window made up of a single sheet of glass has been shattered from outside in. A brick lay on the floor, wrapped in white paper, a breeze fluttering one corner of it. First things first, I thought, ignoring the missile to pick my way across the glass to the front door and check the peephole. The yard was empty and quiet. It was dark out, so theoretically are attackers could have been hiding in the shrubbery, but I knew no one was there. I could kind of...tell. There were no sounds, no smells, no indication that anyone had been near the house beyond the light acrid scent of car exhaust. They driven by, done the deed, and moved on.  
I went back to the brick, reach down to pick it up, and pulled away the band of paper. In scraggly black script, it read:

Think ur R 2good 4us, Cadogan bitch? Next time U die.

Everyone was stunned. They all look towards Merit sympathetically. Ethan on the other hand, was furious. Someone attacked one of his vampires, and they were going to pay. Then he remembered it was just a book. There was still time to change the future. He told Merit, "I will protect you if that happens."

The threat was clear enough, and I guess that I now qualified as the "Cadogan bitch." But "too good for us" stumped me. It sounded like I had a choice - like I'd chosen Cadogan out of the catalog of vampire Houses. It was profoundly untrue, and a good clue - the vandal didn't know me, at least not well enough to understand how inaccurate the statement really was. How little choice I had.

"You have really good instincts." Said Luc. "Liege, if she decides to turn, I would really like her to be a guard." Ethan was thinking more and more that she sounded like she would make a great Sentinel. He told Luc, "We shall see."  
"If I were a guard, I wouldn't know how to defend." Interjected Merit, looking thoughtful.  
"We can take care of that." Said Ethan. But didn't elaborate further.

Mark's voice rang out. "Merit?"  
I looked up, found them huddled in the doorway, and felt my chest tighten protectively. It took me a moment - a surprising one - to realize that the tingle in my limbs wasn't fear, but adrenaline. I beckoned them forward with a folded hand. "It's okay. You can come in. Just watch the glass."

"See, great guard instincts." Said Luc.

Mallory stepped carefully into the room, tiptoed through the fragments. "Jesus. The window - what happened?"  
"Holy crap," Mark agreed, surveying the damage.  
Mallory looked up at me, eyes bright with fear. "What happened?"  
I handed her the note. She read it, then met my gaze. "You're the bitch?"  
I shrugged. "I assumed so, but I don't understand the threat."  
Mark walked to the door, opened it slowly, and looked outside. "Nothing else out here," he called out, "just some glass." He drew back in, his gaze moving between us. "You've got some plywood or something I could hang over the window?"  
I looked to Mallory, who shrugged. "There might be something in the garage."  
He nodded. "I'll go check. I'll be right back."  
When the front door shut behind him, Mallory looked down at the note in her hands. "Do you think we should call the cops?"  
"No," I told her, remembering my father's admonition. But an idea dawned. I took the note back from her and stuffed it into my pocket. "I think we should go to the House."

"Good idea. But I wonder how you may react when you see the person who turned you." Said Chuck, who had been quiet for a while. "It would be the next be thing besides calling me."

10 minutes later, Mark was balancing on the edge of the stoop, securing an old sheet of particle board over the window, and Mallory and I were pulling a car out of the garage, Hyde Park address in hand. mark wasn't thrilled that Mallory was planning to visit a den of vampires in the middle of the night, but I think that stemmed mostly from the fact that he hadn't been invited to tag along. His blusters about her safety didn't read sincere given the awestruck expression on his face.  
To mollify him, we promise to keep our cell phones in hand. Apparently thinking extra precautions the wanted, Mark ran down the driveway as we pulled out, and when Mallory rolled down the passenger side window, he stuffed a good luck charm into her hands.  
"What's this?" She asked him.  
"Garlic." He slid a glance to me, then winged his eyebrows at Mallory. "Vampires," he whispered through a tightly clenched jaw, as if the movement of his lips was the Rosetta Stone that was gonna key me into his secret code.

"Garlic is just a myth. Told to children to stay away from strangers. It is an old myth though. Older than I am." Ethan said. Merit realized that he must be old. She didn't mind. In fact, he could probably help her with her dissertation.

"I can still hear, Mark," I reminded him.  
He blushed and shrugged apologetically. Mallory shook the of plastic takeout container of organic prepeeled garlic and held it beneath my nose. I sniffed, waited for a reaction, and when nothing happened, shrugged.  
"I'm not sure Whole Foods is what Buffy had in mind, hon, but thanks for the thought." She blew a kiss to Mark, and we watched him return to his station at the window. As I pulled the Volvo out of the driveway, Mallory threw the plastic bin into the backseat. "I'm not sure how long this thing with Mark is going to last."

Hopefully not much longer, Catcher thought but kept reading.

"Huh," I remarked, trying to remain supportively neutral. "Not going well?"

Mallory snorted, but said nothing.

"He's well meaning, I guess, and we have fun." She shrugged. "I don't know. There's just not much there - beneath the camaraderie, I mean."  
I nodded. "I get that."  
She waved a hand in the air. "More important issue at hand." She swiveled in her seat to face me. "Before we hit Hyde Park, I want to be sure what we're doing. Are we going to kick vampire ass, or are we just going to ask about this death threat issue?"

"I'd like to see you try," said Ethan. He was a master of Martial Arts and most weaponry.  
"Don't think I can?" Asked Merit.  
"Not in this universe or that one." "Care to make a wager?" She asked.  
"My wager is that you have to have dinner with me." Merit thought about it, then said, "Done, but no dressing up."  
"Deal." They shook on it. When they touched, they each got shocked.  
Ethan then remembered about Amber. She was so easy to forget about these days. He would have to break things off with her. Ethan didn't want her anymore anyway. He had a feeling that Merit would be much more than a consort.

I gnawed on the inside of my lip as I considered her question. we were walking into a nest of trouble, and had only ourselves - and add executive and a not quite two day old vampire - as weapons. And Wow Mallory spent an hour in the gym every day, and I had ten years of ballet lessons and a lot of jogged miles under my belt, I doubt it either of those would help significantly. They certainly hadn't help a few days ago.  
"We're going to talk to them calmly and rationally," I decided.  
"And you're not going to tell Darth Sullivan you reject his fascist assumption of authority?"

Everyone tried not to laugh at the nickname that book Mallory bestowed upon Ethan.

I stifled a laugh. "Maybe not at this first meeting, no."  
Traffic was light; the drive didn't take long. Mallory served as navigator, checking the directions we'd printed off the web.  
"We're getting close," she finally said, and instructed me to turn left. When we reached the address, we gaped.  
"Oh, my God."  
"I know. I see it." I parallel parked in an empty slot on the street - between a Beemer and Mercedes, incidentally - and we got out of the car. The House and it was a mansion, took up a whole block. The building was surrounded by an intricately wrought, ten foot high, black iron fence. the interior of the fence was lined with shrubs and hedges, so the lawns were shielded from public view. The house itself was gigantic, three pale limestone stories leading to a slate mansard roof. There was a turret on one corner and tall rectangular windows ringed the floors. Gabled dormer windows and widow's walks gave the top floor a Gothic look. But overall, while the building was imposing and the lot larger than those nearby, it looked at home beside it's Hyde Park neighbors.  
Well, except for the vampire thing.

"It really is a huge House." Mallory said.  
"It has to be, to fit all members in times of need." Ethan replied.

Mallory squeezed my hand. "You ready?"  
"No," I admitted. "But I need to do this."  
We follow the sidewalk to a gap in the iron fence where to black clad men stood, swords belted at their sides. Both were tall and lean, with long, straight dark hair, tied back tightly. They looked alike, the guards, they're just this side of gaunt facial features fraternally similar.

"We didn't see them this time when we came to the gate." Said Merit.  
"That's cause we wanted to keep this secret meeting a secret." Said Luc, stating the obvious.  
"Are they vampires?" Asked Mallory.  
"No, they are mercenary fairies." He explained.  
Merit mouthed, "fairies" looking shocked.

The one on the left whispered something into his mouth piece, then touched his earpiece, and finally nodded at me. "You can go in," he told me, then shifted his gaze to Mallory. "But she can't."  
Easy decision. "She goes, or I don't."  
He turned his back on us, and I heard faint whispering as he touched the headset again. When he turned back again, a nod was the only affirmation we got.  
As we walked up the sidewalk, Mallory took my hand and squeezed it. " Chatty fellows. They had swords."  
Not just words, I thought, glancing back at the lean, slightly curved scabbards and long, straight handles.  
"I think they're katanas." These were the swords of the samurai, a fact I'd learned while researching weaponry for my dissertation. Although I was interested in the romantic side of medieval literature - think Lancelot and Tristan - the genre was heavy on the war and weapons.

"I would have to learn to use a sword?" Asked Merit, slightly amazed.  
"Yes, we all have some form of training. In fact, if you turned I would be willing to teach you. Or if you prefer, Catcher could teach you," said Ethan.  
"I could. I am a weapons specialist." Catcher said to Merit. Mallory was also amazed at hearing that.

"Do you think you'll get a sword?"  
"What the hell would I do with a sword?" We reached the front door, which was unguarded. The portico that covered it was arched, and four symbols, the lowest one a stylized "C" hung above the door.

"What are those?" Asked Merit "They are the alliance banners. Sometimes we form alliances with other Houses." Said Ethan.

"Hmm," I said. "Knock or just go in, do you think?"  
We were saved the decision. The door was opened by a tall, exquisitely handsome man with caramel colored skin. His hair was short, his eyes a pale green. He wore a black suit that was perfectly fitted to his frame, and a crisp white dress shirt beneath. He extended a hand. "Malik."

"Never been called exquisite before," said Malik.  
Merit blushed. Her descriptions of people were going to embarrass her, for sure.

This was the second vampire. Not the one who turned me, but his colleague.  
"Merit," I said, taking his hand. "And Mallory."  
His nostrils flared as he looked at Mallory, and his brows lifted. "Magic?"

"You can smell magic." It wasn't a question, but a statement made by Mallory. "Smell it, sense it. Not all vamps can do it though." Said Ethan. "Like Helen, for example."

Mallory and I looked at each other. "I beg your pardon?" I asked. He didn't respond, but moved aside to let us enter.  
The interior of the House was as impressive as the outside. Contrary to what I expected - black tulle, leather furniture, red candles, pentagrams - the House was very tastefully decorated. Actually, it look like a five star hotel. The floors were gleaming wood, the high ceilings girded by ancient beams of thick oak. The decor - lots of inlaid wood, urns of flowers, carefully selected lighting - was sophisticated and French inspired. Malik escorted us pass one parlor and into another.  
"Stay here," he instructed in a tone that brooked no argument. We obeyed, Mallory and I standing shoulder to shoulder in the doorway so we could survey the room. Ten or so men and women, all dressed in trendy black suits, milled around, some with PDA's in hand, others on couches perusing laptop computers. I felt incredibly gauche in jeans and a T-shirt, especially when their gazes begin to fall on Mallory and me.  
"New girl," Mal whispered. "It's like your first day at school."  
I nodded. "Feels like that."  
"Do you think he is in here? Sullivan, I mean?"  
I looked around, which was futile. "Maybe?" I offered. "I don't know what he looks like." I hadn't gotten a good look at his face when he bit me, and if he'd been there while I was recuperating, I had no memory of it. I had an inkling that he belonged to the distinctly green eyes I remembered, but that was only a hunch.

"Does it seem like everyone so far is either really tall or has green eyes or both?" Asked Mallory.  
"Now that I think about it, yeah. Weird." Said Merit.

"Use your Spidey sense."  
I chuckled. "Even if I had a Spidey sense, I wouldn't know how to use it."

"You actually do have something like that." A Master vampire can talk through telepathy to any of his turned vampires. It can only be started by the Master though, usually. "Really? Can you show me?" Asked Merit, curiously. Suddenly Luc got up and walked to the food cart and ate a cracker. Merit looked back to Ethan. "You told him to do that?"  
It was Luc who answered. "Yes, he did."

Voice suddenly echoed through the parlor - louder than the quiet whispering of the working vamps. "That's fine, Celina. I appreciate your calling me."  
The words belong to a man with a cell phone at his ear who'd stepped into the doorway on the opposite side of the long room. He was tall, two or three inches over six feet, and lean like a swimmer - narrow waist, broad shoulders, long legs. His hair was straight, shoulder length, and golden blond. His face was chiseled - knife edge cheekbones and a firm draw, his brow strong, his lips worth calling home about. He was dressed in a black suit that fit his body like a glove, beneath which was an impeccably white dress shirt, top button unclasped, no tie.

Again Merit blushed. She knew her descriptions were going to embarrass her. Ethan on the other hand was smiling. She found him handsome.

"He's prettier than Beckham," Mallory breathlessly whispered. "Jesus."  
I nodded in silent agreement. He was incredibly handsome.  
The blond was accompanied by an equally attractive redhead, her skin luminously pale. She wore only a slim burnt orange cocktail dress, the toes of her bare feet painted red. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and while she stood intimately close to the blond, she scanned the room with an almost mechanical precision. She looked around, saw Mallory and me, and tensed. Then she leaned toward the blond and whispered something. He raised his head, a lock of golden hair across his brow, and look up.  
Our gazes loft. He stared, and I stared back.  
A chill ran up my spine, and eerie premonition of something I couldn't quite discern. Vampires definitely had some sort of Spidey sense, and mine was sending up flares - enormous fiery flares that put the Fourth of July fireworks at Navy Pier to shame.

Merit didn't know why, but she did not like this woman. It also seemed odd that she would be checking the room. She didn't seem like a guard. She mentioned that to the vamps. They all looked at each other. Ethan finally said, "She is my former consort."  
Merit knew Ethan was old and he was bound to have former lovers, but a consort was nothing more than a high class hooker.  
"I hope you don't expect me to be a consort." She said quietly.  
"Never, you are way more than that."

I push down the sensation and the disturbing, burgeoning sense of familiarity. I didn't want him to be familiar. I didn't want him to know me, to know who I was, have taken part in my change. I wanted this beautiful man to be new to the House, a regular vampire doing a hard nights work for the Master he secretly loathed. I wanted him to approach me and, introduce himself, be pleasantly surprised that I was a vampire and that I just joined his cool kids club.  
I couldn't tear my eyes away. I stared. He stared back, lips parted in shock or surprise, his knuckles white around the file folder he held in his free hand.  
The rest of the room stilled and quieted as the vampires watched us, probably waiting for cues - Should we jump the new girl? Mock her for wearing jeans and sneaks? Welcome her into the ancient brotherhood of vampires with a pancake breakfast and mixer?

"You really thought that we would jump you and mock you?" Asked Lindsey.  
"I probably didn't know what to think or expect." Said Merit.  
"We do however, have pancakes in the cafeteria." Luc said laughing.

Making some decision, the blond snapped his cell phone shut and walked toward us, his stride confident and swift. Each step seem to make him more handsome - his perfectly sculpted features coming into sharper relief.  
Before that moment, before watching him walk toward me, I've been a normal girl. If I saw a boy I found attractive, I might smile. I might, on the rare occasion, say hello or give someone my phone number. I wouldn't say I was forward, but I made a move when I was interested. But something about this boy, may be mixed with the fact that I'd recently become a vampire, made every molecule in my body tingle. I wanted to sink my fingers into his hair and push my lips against his. I wanted to claim him for my own - the rising of some deep-seated, instinctual need. Time seemed to speed up, to zip by, my body driving me toward a fate my head didn't understand. My heart thudded, hammer like inside my chest, and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.

Once again, Merit found herself red faced. But her body was tingling. She noticed that Ethan's eyes were silver. She could also see the bulge in his pants. She somehow, managed to turn redder, when he moved his hands to cover himself. Luckily, Chuck didn't notice this predicament. Everyone else though, snickered.

Mallory leaned toward me. "FYI, your eyes are silver. I'll just add horny to the list of reasons that happens."

"Thank you, Mallory. Did not need to know that about my granddaughter." Chuck said finally catching on to why everyone snickered earlier.

I nodded absently.  
The beautiful blond moved closer, until he stood in front of me, until, looking up, I could see the color of his eyes.  
They were a deep, translucent, emerald green.  
Impossibly green.  
And my heart sunk, I realized, familiarly green.  
"Shit," was all I could think to say.  
Our rangy Beckham look alike was my sworn enemy.

"Whew! That was the end of the chapter. And it was a long one. Who wants to read next?" Asked Catcher. Ethan raised his hand and the book was passed to him.

Like Catcher said, this was a long chapter.  
Sorry for the delay in getting this posted. My finicky tablet is a real bitch.  
Disclaimer: I don't own it the lovely Chloe Neill does.  



	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Three: You Gotta Fight For Your Right.  
"Merit?"  
Pulled for my fantasy by the sudden flood of adrenaline, I clenched my hands into fists. I'd heard about the flight or flight instinct - the animalistic drive to dig in and fight for survival or to run away, seek shelter or cover. Before tonight, it had always been an abstract construct. Biological trivia. But I felt it after the attack on our house, and as I faced Ethan Sullivan for the first time, I felt it intimately. Some previously absent part of my psyche alone and began to evaluate surroundings, to debate whether to set heel to the ground and get as far away from him as possible, or face him, stand against him, and even if the effort was doomed, to see what I was made of.  
This was one of those moments, I thought, one of those make or break moments that set the direction of your life, that remind you about courage and free will.  
I felt a nudge at my ribs, and heard a fierce whisper. "Merit!" I looked beside me, where Mallory stood, eying me curiously. "Are you okay? Ethan was just saying hello. Did you have something you wanted to say to him, maybe regarding the eath-day eat-thray?"

" Really? Pig Latin? I speak ten languages and you use pig Latin?" Asked Ethan, affronted. He was almost four hundred years old, he was bound to know even recent made up languages. "I even speak two dead languages." He continued reading after that.

I slid my gaze back to Ethan, who watch me cautiously, then let my focus shift to the vampires, who stood at attention in the room. They stop tapping the keys of their PDA's and work out right staring. Without looking at him I asked, "Can we speak privately?"  
He paused, apparently surprised, and then said in the voice smooth enough to send a second chill down my spine, " Of course ."  
His hand up my elbow, even escorted me through the crowd of gaping vampires, back into the hallway, and then into the room next door. It was an office, masculine and well appointed. His office. To the right was a sizable oak desk; to the left was a seating area of brown leather furniture. At the end of the room was a long, oval shaped conference table, which stood just before a bank of windows covered by navy blue velvet curtains. Both side walls were lined with built in shelves covered in books, trophies, photographs, and memorabilia.  
Mallory followed us in, and Ethan closed the door. He waved his hand in invitation at two chairs that sat in front of his desk, but Mallory moved to the shelves at the far end of the room and, hands crossed behind her back, began to peruse the momentos. She gave us privacy without leaving me alone with him. Appreciating the gesture, I remain standing.  
Even crossed his arms and gazed at me expectantly. " Well? To what do I owe the pleasure, Merit?"  
I stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to remember why I thought visiting the Hyde Park office of a Master vampire was a good idea, when my mouth, which apparently wasn't privy to the internal debate, suddenly blurted out, "I didn't give you permission to change me."

"Wow, you certainly didn't beat around the bush, there, did you?" Asked Luc. Merit blushed, but shrugged as if it was a common occurrence. It usually wasn't, though. Maybe she felt brave around her vampire. Wait. 'Her vampire?' She decided to think about it later.

Ethan stared at me for a moment before turning his head. He walked away, moving with self assurance to the leather chair behind his desk. For all the tailored clothes and impeccable looks, his power was obvious. He fairly hummed with it, and while his movements for crisp and elegant, they hinted at something darker, something menacing beneath the surface - a shark arcing below deceptively smooth water.  
He shuffled papers on his desk, then crossed his legs and looked up at me with those obscenely emerald green eyes . "Frankly, that's not what I expected to hear. I was hoping for something along the lines of 'Thank you, my Liege, for saving my life. I do so enjoy being alive.'"  
"If saving me had really been your goal, you could have taken me to a hospital. A doctor could have saved me. You unilaterally decided to make me something else."

Merit sighed. Then she said, "Forgive me, it appears my book self is going to be bitchy and childish. Hopefully she wont be for too long." She then added, "Its not like you would of had time to get to the hospital. My throat was ripped out."  
"Well, if you decide to change we can avoid all the confrontation." Said Lindsey. She really wanted Merit to make the choice. She could really see being friends with her and even Mallory.

He furrowed his brow. "Do you think the vampire who bit you first intended to let you live?"  
"I didn't have the chance to ask him."  
"Don't be naïve."  
I'd seen the press conference about Jennifer Porter's death, knew about the similarities between our attacks. So, unable to argue that point, I made another. "My life will never be the same."  
"Yes, Merit," he said, frustration in his voice, "your human life will never be the same. It was, regrettably, taken from you. But we've given you another."  
"It should have been my decision."  
"I was a little short on time, Merit. And given that you are fully aware of the choice I had to make, this petulant attitude is beneath you."  
I didn't disagree, but who was he to tell me that? My throat constricted with emotion. "Excuse me for not having adjusted to the fact that my life had been turned upside down. Excuse me for not reacting to that with grace."  
"Or gratefulness," he muttered, and I wondered if he knew he'd been loud enough for me to hear him. "I gave you a life. And I made you like me. Like the rest of your brothers and sisters. Are we such monsters?"  
I wish I could of said yes. I wanted to say yes, to feign horror.  
But tear ran down my cheek, propelled by some combination of rage and guilt that I wasn't as repelled by Ethan Sullivan as I'd planned to be. I wiped the tear away with the back of my hand.  
Ethan looked at me for a long time, and I could read the disappointment in his eyes. It bothered me, that disappointment, more than I cared to admit.  
He steepled his fingers together on his desk, leaned forward. "Then perhaps I made a mistake. Cadogan House was allowed twelve new vampires this year, Merit. That makes you one twelfth of my allotment. Do you think you were worth it? Do you think you can contribute to Cadogan in sufficient measure to repay that investment? Was my bringing you into the House a better decision than saving someone else to whom I might have given new life?"  
I stared at him, the value of the gift he's given me, however much I hadn't wanted to become one of them, sinking in. I slid into the chair before me. Ethan nodded. "I thought that might do it. Now your objections to having been changed have been duly noted. So for the moment, what say we move on? I don't want that between us, even if you have decided on your mortal enemy. " He lifted brows and challenge. I didn't bother to deny it.  
I paused, then asked, "Duly noted?"  
Ethan smiled knowingly. "Noted and recited in front of a witness." His gaze flicked to the corner of the room, and he gazed at Mallory with curiosity. "I haven't met your companion."  
"Mallory Carmichael, my roommate."  
Mallory glanced up from the thick book she was perusing. "Yo."

"You meet a Master vampire for the first time and your greeting is 'yo'?" Asked Merit, amused.  
"Well I was probably trying to give you privacy. And I was probably still stuck on what Malik said about me having magic." Responded Mallory.  
"Yea that might throw someone off their game." Said Luc, in agreement.

"And your backup, I presume," he said, rising and walking to the bar tucked into the bank of bookshelves on the left side of the room. He poured amber colored liquor into a chubby glass and watched me over the rim as he sipped its contents. "I've met your father."  
"I'm sorry to hear that."  
He cradled the glass in his hands. "You aren't close to your family?"  
"My father and I don't get along. We have different priorities. He's solely focused on building his financial kingdom."  
"While Merit's not," Mallory offered from her corner. "She's perfectly happy dreaming about Lancelot and Tristan."  
"Lancelot and Tristan?" He asked.

"My dissertation. I'm interested in medieval romantic lit." Merit explained. Everyone nodded.

Embarrassed at the love struck teen implication, I stammered out, "I am -was- working on my dissertation. Before."  
Ethan finished his drink and put the glass on the bar, then leaned back against it, arms crossed. "I see."  
"Honestly, I doubt that you do. But if you hoped changing me would help you access Merit money, your out of luck. I don't have it - either the money or the access."  
Ethan was momentarily startled, and didn't meet my gaze when he pushed off the bar and move back to the desk. When he was seated again, he frowned at me - not in anger, I thought, but in puzzlement. "What if I said that I could give you things? Would that ease the transition?"

"When did she ever give you any indication that she wanted something?" Asked Mallory, who face palmed.  
"I didn't yet know much about her, so I think I was grasping at straws." Said Ethan, slightly embarrassed.

Across the room, Mallory groaned.  
"I'm not my parents."  
I was the recipient of another long stare, but this one held a glimmer of respect. "I'm beginning to see that."  
Finally finding my footing - he may have been a vampire, but he was subject to human prejudices just like everyone else - I relaxed back into the chair, crossing my legs and arms, and arching a brow at him.  
"Is that what you thought? That I'd see the Armani and the Hyde Park address, and I'd be so excited I'd forget that I hadn't consented?"  
"Perhaps we've both misjudged the situation," he allowed. "But if there is such animus in your family, why do you go by 'Merit'?"

The three in the room who knew, Chuck, Mallory, and Merit herself, all looked at each other. Finally Merit said, "Its better than the alternative." She didn't elaborate further.

I glanced over at Mallory, who was picking up bit of lint from one of the heavy velvet curtains that lined the windows. She was one of only a handful of friends who knew the entire story, and I wasn't about to add Ethan Sullivan to that group.  
"It's better than the other option," I told him.  
Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. "And you arent Undead. You aren't undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn't a reliable anatomical resource. You didn't die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You're better now, genetically, they were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I've made you and immoral, assuming you managed to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon?"  
I nodded.  
"Have you had blood yet?"  
"Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven't had any. To be honest, it didn't look that appetizing."  
"You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn't hit you yet. Give it another day. You'll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes." Ethan's lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming - that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. "Did you say bagged blood?"  
"That's what was delivered. Why is that funny?"

Merit looked at Ethan, eyebrow raised. Ethan just shook his head, knowing it would be explained.

"Because you are a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don't kill anyone."

"You want me to bite people?" Asked Merit, shocked. She was surprised to find out that vamps can drink from other vamps.  
"It's not as bad as it sounds." Ethan explained. "You must always have consent from the human. And I daresay you would find it quite sensual." He thought of her biting him. He held back a shiver.  
Chuck cleared his throat, wanting to move on and not hear anything about his granddaughter and the word sensual together.

I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. "I'm not going to bite someone. I don't want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can't just go around and-" I waved a hand in the air- "chew on people."

Luc looked at Merit, amused. "We don't chew on people. Bite and suck."  
"Excuse me, its not like I knew that." Merit replied, her cheeks a little bit red.

Ethan clucked his tongue. "And to think - we were so close to having a normal conversation. Merit, you're an adult. I suggest you learn to accept your circumstances, and quickly. Like it or not, your life has changed. You need to come to terms with exactly who you are."

"You expect me to do that overnight? Just forget about what I lost, just like that?" Merit was still slightly saddened by the loss of her education.  
"Of course, not. But I wouldn't want you to dwell on it, either." Ethan said, noticing the look that crossed her face. " As a vampire, you must learn to live with the past, for there will, potentially, be a lot of it."  
The other vamps nodded.

"I know who I am."  
A golden eyebrow winged upward. "You know who you were. I know who you are, Merit, and who you'll come to be."  
"And what is that?"

Before he read on, Ethan looked up and stared at her. He said with conviction, "Mine."  
Merit blushed.

His face was completely, serenely confident. "Mine. My vampire. My subject."  
The possessiveness called my anger, and it rose, flowered and rushed across my body with a warmth that curled my toes. That warmth was delicious, and yet the emotion felt strange - separate, somehow as if it wasn't my anger, but anger inside me whatever the source, it was pervasive, strong, and thrilling.  
I stood up and asked him, my voice huskier, lusher, "Would you like to test that theory?"  
Ethan's gaze dropped to my lips, and wet his own but when he responded, seconds later, his tone was chill. Composed. The tone of Master of subduing rebellious peon. You forget yourself Initiate. You're two days old. I've three hundred and ninety four years. Do you really want to test your mettle against me?"  
I wasn't completely stupid. I know my answer to that question should have been a resounding no. But that didn't stop my body, which I was beginning to learn was operating on a completely different frequency from the rest of my brain, from responding with all the bravado I could muster, "Why not?"  
a heavy silence to send it, the only sound penetrating it a solid thud of my heart. Ethan pushed back his chair. "Come with me."

"I think that answers our question of whether or not your transition went smoothly." Said Lindsey. She was searching the minds of the House, to find the culprit who stole a House medal. She thought she was getting close. "Liege, I have been trying to narrow down the suspects and I am relatively sure it is a female." She added.  
Ethan nodded, mind still on the fact that there was a traitor in there midst.

"What did you just do?"  
Mallory and I followed Ethan back through the first floor of Cadogan House.  
"I don't know," I whispered back. "Vampire Merit's a lot braver than People Merit."  
"Yeah, well, you better figure out a way to reconcile the genetics, 'cause Vampire Merit just landed you in some serious shit."  
we took a right, descended a flight of stairs, and followed Ethan through another hallway to a set of antique wooden doors. The room we entered was huge and bright, the center of its wooden floor covered with a set of tatami mats. Half the height of the twenty foot high walls was covered in gleaming wood; the remainder, up to and overhanging balcony supported by massive wooden columns, showcased an impressive collection of antique weaponry, including swords, maces, bows, axes, and wicked looking knives.  
This was a room for sparring.  
It took a moment for the implication to settle in.

The Merit in the room was much quicker. "You want to fight me?" She asked, shocked once again.  
"You challenged me." Ethan responded, shrugging. "Not too many do that. I wanted to see you in action I guess."

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, turning to him. "You can't actually think I'm going to fight you?"  
Ethan regarded me coolly and began unbuttoning his shirt. Question answered, I thought, and averted my eyes after the first peek of toned chest.

Merit blushed. She had a feeling she would be doing that a lot.

I walked to the middle of the floor, thinking I'd feel better if I had a better grasp of my surroundings. Ethan's arsenal was impressive - a set of crossed pikes, blue ribbons hung from their ends; I hefty broadsword; a black wooden shield bearing a golden oak tree, the acorns paint it red; rows of unsheathed katanas.

"We all agree, not to interrupt the sparring?" Asked Luc. He wanted to see what Merit was made of. Also he wanted to know who wins the bet, Ethan or Merit.  
Everyone nodded.

"Experience?" Ethan called out behind me.  
"Ballet and jogging. And whatever extra strength two days of being fanged will give me." I made the mistake of turning around just as he was pulling the button up shirt over his head. My mouth wentbdry. His shoulders were broad and perfectly sculpted, as was the rest of his torso. His chest was firm, his stomach flat and lean, dotted only by the pucker of navel and a thin line of dark blonde hair and disappeared into the waist of his trousers. Around his neck was a thin gold chain on which hung a tiny oval of gold with a design stamped into it. It look like a saint's medal, although I doubt any saints would have approved of a Master vampire wearing it.

Merit was beet red. Everyone ignored it.

Ethan caught me staring and lifted a brow, and I looked quickly away. Mallory yelled my name, waving me frantically toward where she stood at the edge of the mats. When I reached her, she shook her head at me.  
"You Can not seriously think you're going to fight this guy. He could kick your ass with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He's probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. Hell, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats."  
We simultaneously look over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeingg off black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across the shoulders. shoulders.  
God, but he was beautiful.  
I narrowed my gaze.  
Beautiful but evil. Wicked. The repugnant dregs of foul malevolence. Or something.

"I am definitely not evil." Said Ethan, amused.  
Merit just stayed red.

"Jesus," Mallory whispered. "I wasn't to support your quest for revenge and all, but maybe you should just let him glamour you." She looked at me, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. "Either you're fucked or you're fucked, right?"

"Once again, thank you Mallory. Didn't need to hear that." Grumbled Chuck. While he hoped his baby girl would find love, he did not need details. Everyone chuckled at his expression.

I rolled my eyes at her. "You're not helping."  
the shuffle of footsteps rang through the room. We looked up. Vampires were feeling the balcony, all dressed in black, all throwing hateful looks at me and Mallory. As I took in their obvious disdain, the weight of the risk I taken settled into my bones. according to the aptly named Canon, vampire society was based on antiquated notions of feudalism, including unfailing loyalty to a House and its Master. I'd walk into my House - in to Ethan's House - spouted off, and challenged him to a fight. Twenty seven years of trying to live under my parents' radar, of never causing enough trouble to raise their notice, and I'd made two very big mistakes in a matter of days. Walking across campus had nearly killed me. Challenging Ethan... Well, we'd find out soon enough.  
"Probably this wasn't the best decision I've ever made," I admitted.  
"No," Mallory agreed, but when I looked at her, her eyes shone bright with appreciation. "But its ballsy. And you've needed to make a ballsy decision."  
"Just a minute ago you said -"  
"Forget it. I know what I said," she interrupted. "I've changed my mind. Geniuses are entitled. This is the right thing to do. This is the new Merit." She hugged me quickly, then stepped back. "Kick his ass, dead girl."  
Ethan joined us, and made a gallant bow. When he straightened again, he clucked me beneath the chin. "Don't lose that courage now, Initiate."  
"It wasn't my courage - the vampire challenged you."  
"You are the vampire, Merit, now and forever. But sometimes the mind needs a chance to catch up with the genetics," he allowed.

Ethan lked up from reading. "I am so sorry. You tried to tell me, but I didn't listen."  
"It's okay. We know what not to do now, and we can change the future now." Merit said, softly. Her heart was leaning towards being changed, but her head was being stubborn. She still wanted more facts.

I cast worried glance to the balcony. "I hope that happens soon."  
He chuckled. "I'm not going to hurt you and despite the fact that yove broken virtually every rule in the Canon, I'll make you a deal."  
I faced him at again, forced myself to meet his green eyes, despite the trembling of my hands. "What?" "If you manage to land a blow, I'll relieve you of your obligations to me."  
it was the opposite of what I'd have predicted - which was something of the " if you survive this, I'll let you heal before punishing you for challenging me" variety. By those standards, it was a good deal, if improbable sounding. I searched his face, not sure if he was serious. "How do I know you'll keep your word?"  
Ethan lifted his gaze to the balcony of vampires above us. "They know."  
When our gazes met again, I nodded. I handed the crumpled death threat, which I've been too busy being stupid to bring up, to Mallory, tugged the bottom of my t-shirt, and followed Ethan into the middle of the room. He turned and bowed slightly. "One hit. That's all you need to do."  
with no further ado, he kicked, and elegant roundhouse that would have brought his bare foot across my face had I not fallen back. I hit the mat on my back, my breath rushing out with the impact.  
As I lay there, the gallery tittering above me, I wasn't sure which scared me more: the fact that he nearly kicked me in the face, or the fact that I'd been fast enough to avoid it.  
"I had changed.  
" Nice reflexes."  
I looked up to find Ethan a few feet away, peering down at me curiously. He wasn't he only one with questions. I wondered how much more I could do, so I pushed my palms flat behind me, brought up my legs, rolled back, and popped into my feet in a quick bounce.  
"Very nice."  
I shrugged of he compliment, but I was thrilled by the motion. I hadn't danced classically in years, but I'd always relished the few seconds of being airborne in a grand jeté - the brief sensation of fighting gravity...and winning. This was similar, but infinitely more satisfying. My body felt even lighter, sprightlier than when I was in top dancing form. Maybe there was advantages to being a vampire.  
I grinned back at Ethan. "Just taking her for a test spin." Then I circled, looking for a weakness. Ethan bounced on the balls of his feet and crooked his hand at me in invitation. "Then lets see what you can do."  
Someone started music, and Nine Inch Nails' "The Hand That Feeds" spilled into the room.  
"Apropos," he muttered, and crooked his hand again.  
NIN was an interesting choice for a nearly four hundred year old vampire. Whatever his issues, I couldn't fault his taste in music.  
Back to the challenge at hand, I tried a punch. I swung forward, rotating my wrist as I tried to catch him in a jab, but he avoided it, followed the motion of my hand, and swung his leg into a low sweep that nearly brought my feet out from under me. But I jumped just in time and arched my back into a handspring, which put me a few feet away and out of his range.  
Or so I thought, until he rushed forward so quickly, the motion was blurred. I flipped back again, then again, the motion nearly effortless, but he kept coming. When I popped up the last time, I instinctively crouched, which put the cross he directed at my jaw out of range. He struck air, and I reached out arms to grab his knees, but he flew over me, landing behind me with a gentle thud.  
I pushed to my feet again, and turned to see him grinning wildly, his eyes blazing green. "I'm impressed. Let's do it again." Then his expression went solemn, and he bounced on the balls of his feet and crooked a hand again in invitation. Rolling my eyes at the Matrix replay, I tried a butterfly kick. I once seen a kick boxing instructor try it, but as a human I hadn't had the power or strength to execute it.  
Being a vampire change the rules. Now I had the strength to push myself into the air and swing my legs around, to spin my body horizontally.  
still, Ethan's reflexes were faster than mine, so I missed him again. He threw his torso back nearly 180 degrees, all the while keeping himself upright and completely avoided my extended legs.  
"So close," he offered breathily.  
"Not close enough." But I grinned when I said it, thrilled that I'd managed the move. It pleased the crowd too, and they hooted appreciatively. "Careful, Liege!" Someone called out. "She might scar that pretty face."  
Ethan laughed good-naturedly. "God forbid," he told the gallery. "Then I would only have fabulous wealth and canny instincts to rely on." The vampires chuckled together, and he tipped his head to smile up at the crowd.  
That was my chance, and I took it. Ethan was distracted, so I rushed him, but the sneaky bastard anticipated my move. He edged to the left just before I could take him down. I braced my arms to hit the ground as I flew past him, but before I made contact, he grabbed my arm, spun me around mid-air, and push me to the ground. I landed flat on my back with Ethan above me, his body stretched atop mine. He neatly captured my wrists in his hands and pushed them - despite my squirming - to the mat above my head.  
The crowd erupted into catcalls and lewd suggestions.  
"You baited me!" I accused.  
His lips scant inches from my face, he smiled wolfishly. "And so easily." I squirmed, but he pushed me harder against the mat and slid a knee between mine. "Initiate, you can guess exactly where that's going to lead."  
I growled in irritation.  
At least, I told myself it was irritation, and not at all the fact he smelled delicious, a clean combination of linen, cotton, and soap. Not the fact that the weight of his body on mine felt completely natural - a languid heat suddenly flowing through my chest, like the union of our bodies had closed a circuit.  
I tried to tune out the sensation and, embarrassed at the silvering of my eyes - I have to admit, I had a sudden, new sympathy for men faced with hiding their arousal - I squeezed them shut. Ethan let me calm, and when I finally opened my eyes, his face was blank.  
"Do you agree that you failed to land a blow?"  
I paused, but nodded. "Unless you're willing to give me a freebie?"

"I believe that means I have won the bet." Ethan announced after reading about the sparring. He knew he would win.  
"So that means dinner is your choice." Said Merit. She had a feeling that she was going to lose. "Just nothing too fancy."

For a heartbeat, his gaze dropped to my lips. I wondered if he'd kiss me, if he thought about it, if he felt the pull like I did. But he looked away, then loosened my wrists and pushed himself up. He offered a hand, which I took, and let him pull me to my feet...to the boos and general disappointment of the peanut gallery.  
"Is this why you came?" He asked when we were both upright again. "To fight me?"  
Mallory must have heard the question over the mumbling of the crowd, as she stepped forward, the note in her outstretched hand. "We came for this."  
Ethan wiped his brow with the back of his hand, then took the note. He read it, his expression blanking. "Where did you get this?"  
"It was wrapped around a brick that was thrown through our living room window," I said.  
His gaze snapped up. "Were you hurt?" He scanned my body looking for injuries.  
"Were fine. There were three of us in the house, and were all fine."  
"Three?"  
"Mallory's boyfriend was there."  
"Ah."  
I thumped the note with a finger. "What's this about? Is there a vampire war I don't know about? Did changing me piss someone off?"  
He frowned as he perused the note again. "Perhaps your initial attacker is bitter about not having finished the job, or about my having finished it for him. We believe he, the one who bit you was a Rogue - a vampire living outside the House system. The note would suggest that's true. It's also possible there's a connection between your attack and the attack that killed Jennifer Porter."  
It wasn't the first time I'd considered that connection, but the idea was more unnerving coming from his lips. It gave legitimacy to the possibility that I was the intended victim of a vampire turned serial killer. But it also raised other questions.  
"You know, its quite the coincidence that you were trolling across campus at the same time I was attacked by a vamp."  
He lifted deeply green eyes to mine. "There was a considerable amount of luck involved." We looked at each other for a moment.  
"Ethan," I softly said, "you didn't kill Jennifer Porter, did you?"

"Really? If he was the killer, he wouldn't have saved me." Merit said. "I am being really naïve in this book."  
"You are not. You are asking questions to find an answer. You would make a good guard." Luc told her. Lindsey nodded in agreement. She was still focused on nabbing the traitor.

His lashes fell, crescents of long, dark blond against golden skin. "No, I didn't kill her. Nor did anyone from my House."  
I wasn't sure if I believed him, although I had no reason to doubt his honesty, not when he dealt with me, even I could admit, generously. I'd openly challenged the head of my House, and all I'd suffered for it was a little embarrassment before a cadre of vampires I didn't know. I opened my mouth to ask about the note, but before I got anything out, something set off the gallery. They began to yell at us, the general consensus being that I deserve the beating.

"Beating? You beat your vampires?" Asked Mallory, concerned for her friend, who she could tell was leaning towards vampirism.  
"That is a very old method of correcting a vampire. Some of the older Houses of Europe still use it. Only the older vampires remember that. The American Houses don't employ that method anymore." Explained Ethan. Mallory nodded. She was feeling better about it.

"Liege!" One yelled. "You can't let her get away with challenging you!"  
He raised his gaze to his vampires. "You're right. I'll send her to her room without dessert and take away her cell phone!"  
The crowd snickered, but Ethan raised a hand again, and as if he was conducting the symphony of their voices, they quieted immediately. Whatever my issues with his authority, they were clearly much less reticent.  
"Friends, she made a good faith effort to best me. And since she hasn't yet taken the oaths, she hasn't" - he glanced at me - "technically breached the Canon. Besides, she rose a mere two days ago, and nearly managed to catch me. She will make an undeniably important addition to the House, and we all know how...delicate our alliances are."  
There were fewer titters now, mixed with reluctant nods.  
"More important, she came here in fear for her life." He held up the note. "She rose a mere two days ago, and she has been threatened."  
The redhead who'd accompanied him to the parlor stepped to the edge of the balcony. "Are you sure she hasn't brought war to us, my Liege? "

After hearing about Amber, Lindsey quickly searched her out in the House. After a few minutes of searching, she gasped, drawing the attention of the others. "Liege, I know who the traitor is and you are not going to like it. It's Amber."  
Without further ado, Ethan was out of his chair and out the door. He told the others and Malik to go to the balcony and wait. He also told the rest of the House.  
Ethan barged into Amber's suite, not feeling the need to knock. The traitor whore looked up and smiled, thinking everything was fine. But she seen the look in Ethan's eyes and knew she was in trouble. She tried to play it off. "What's wrong, Liege?" She asked with all the innocence she could muster, which wasn't much.  
Not up to hearing the falseness, he grabbed her arm and marched her to the sparring room. There awaited the rest of the House and the visitors.  
Ethan looked up and addressed the House. "It has been confirmed that their is a traitor in our midst. Amber happens to be that traitor. What do you say for yourself?" He asked looking at the traitor whore next to him.  
There were growls from the vamps in the gallery, eyes going silver. The magic in the room turning hateful.  
Knowing she was caught she confessed. "Celina made me do it. She offered me a way out. I didn't want to be consort anymore, nothing more than a whore." Thinking that was enough she stopped talking, lest she give up the entire plan. Of course, she didn't know Ethan already knew about it.  
"Friends, she is a traitor. She was looking for a way to steal a House medal to frame Cadogan House in a murder." There were gasps all around.  
"You know what happens to traitors in this House. They get stripped of their position in the House then excommunicated from the House. They have twenty minutes to gather their things and be escorted out of the House. Anyone caught communicating with her is also potentially a traitor." Without warning, he reached out and pulled the chain from her neck dropping it to the floor. "Luc, please escort the traitor whore to the suite." Luc nodded from the balcony and jumped over the edge. Merit and Mallory, who have been watching gasped at this. They were shocked that he was still okay. Lindsey leaned over and whispered, "Vampire power." The girls nodded.  
They waited the next eighteen minutes in silence. When Luc returned to the room he said,"She is gone. I will have guards watching the House, in case she makes an appearance. "  
"We will also not be in communication with Navarre House. But we will notify Grey House of the treachery. I have a feeling that she might try to frame them as well. Helen, please remove this medal and have all the others that are not currently in use put in the safe. That is all everyone. You can return to work." Ethan added. He dismissed the rest.  
When he got back to his study, he explained, mainly to Merit, that she was his former consort. Merit nodded, but frowned. She didn't want to be a consort.  
"I would never make you my consort. You are too important for that." He told her. Merit smiled. Ethan returned to his seat and continued reading.

If I had any question as to what she was to him, her cannily cocked hip and bedroom eyes were answer enough. Girlfriend. Lover. Consort, if we were sticking to feudal terms. I expected to see Ethan's eyes on her lush curves, but when I turned back to him, his gaze was on me, his smile cocky, like he knew I'd been appraising his mistress.  
I shrugged. "She seems nice enough, if you like the busty, voluptuous, gorgeous type."  
"Much to my dismay" - and that rang clear in the irritably flat tone of his voice - "I find I have a sudden taste for stubborn, lithe, brunettes with horrible fashion sense."  
He might as well have been parroting lines from Pride and Prejudice, for all the disdain that rang through his voice, his obvious aversion at being attracted to a woman so déclassé. Self conscious again of my casual clothes - but cognizant of the fact that I looked good in them - I managed to not tug at my T-shirt or jeans. Instead, I slipped thumbs into my belt loops and tapped fingers against my flat hips. Ethan watched the movement intensely. When his eyes lifted again, I arched an eyebrow. "Not even in your dreams, Sullivan."  
He only grunted in response.  
I smirked.  
The door to the sparring room opened, and Malik entered with a tall man. This one wore slacks and a dress shirt with discomfort, and from the strong set of his jaw, broad shoulders, and tousled sun kissed hair, I guessed he'd be more comfortable in jeans and cowboy boots. I let my gaze drop, checked his shoes. Sure enough, they were black alligator with silver tipped toes. Called that one.

"Nothing wrong with being a cowboy." Said Luc. He loved his cowboy boots.

It also occurred to me that I hadn't yet seen an unattractive vampire. They were all fit, tall, impeccably groomed, undeniably handsome. Flattering I guess, that they'd made me one of them, unless you thought too hard about the circumstances.  
Ethan approached the men and handed over the note. They reviewed it in turn, chatting and occasionally glancing over at me and Mallory. She linked an arm through mine.  
"I've decided this is going to be a treat to watch."  
I slid her a dubious glance.  
"I've known you for 3 years. That entire time, you've been puttering around the little ivory tower was built for yourself. You need to be rescued. and if you can't be rescued by Prince tall, sexy, and alive" - she looked over at the trio of deliberating vampires and scanned Ethan's half naked body - "he's certainly the next best thing." She made an evil sounding chuckle. "And you complained about your oral exams. This boy's gonna be the biggest challenge of your life."  
"Calling him a 'challenge' assumes I'm interested. And I wasn't puttering around. I was writing a dissertation."  
"You're interested," she declared. "And given that possessive look in his eyes, I'd say he's interested, too."  
"He thinks I'm unsophisticated."  
She looked over at me. "You're you. Unapologetically you. And he can't do any better than that."  
I kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Mal."  
"Yup." She released me and ogled the threesome of vamps, who stood in a tight knit in front of us, discussing our fate. Then she rubbed her hands together. "Now. Which one do I get? How about Cowboy Pete?"

After hearing that the guys all laughed. Catcher stopped first. He didn't like his girl checking out other guys. Wait his girl?  
The girls just shook their heads.

I was saved formulating an answer (which, incidentally, would have been something along the lines of "Don't you have a boyfriend?") by Ethan, who motioned us closer with a single crooked finger. When we reached the group, he gestured to his comrades. " Malik, my Second, who I believe you've met, and this is Luc, Captain of my Guards." He motioned toward us. "Merit, two day old Initiate, and Mallory, her roommate, who likely has the patience of a saint."  
Mallory chuckled, the traitor, but then got exactly what was coming to her. Although Malik and Luc nodded in greeting, Luc then frowned down at her from his towering six feet and change.  
"You have magic."  
Mallory blinked. "What's that now?"  
Ethan ran a finger delicately over her hair as she flinched beneath it. "Ah," he said nodding. "I'd wondered."  
"Wondered what?" She asked.  
"Who brought in the magic," Malik said so casually you'd have thought he was discussing the weather.  
Mallory put hands on her hips. "What the hell are you people, and I use that term loosely, talking about?"  
Luc inclined his head toward Mallory, but looked at Ethan. "Is it possible she doesn't know?"  
"Doesn't know what?" I asked, irritation rising. "What the hell is going on?"  
As if I hadn't spoken, Malik shrugged at Luc. "If she's not union yet, its possible the Order hasn't yet picked up on her post adolescence. This is Chicago, after all."  
"True," Ethan said. "We should call the Ombud, tell him there's a new witch in town."  
"New witch?" Mallory asked, paling. "Time out. Who's a witch, hoss?"  
Ethan glanced at her, brow arched, and his tone couldn't have been more bland. "You, of course."

"What is the Order?" Asked Mallory, looking at Catcher.  
"The Order is the union of sorcerers." Catcher said shortly. He was still a little bit sore, when it came to the Order. "I'll tell you more later."

While Mallory came to terms with that little revelation, Ethan and his staff filled me in on the current state of vampire relations in Chicago. While most vampires in the world - all the registered vampires - were affiliated with Houses, a minority were categorized as Rogues, vampires who had no ties to a House and no loyalty to a particular Master. There were a number of ways this could happen - being bitten by a vampire who wasn't a Master and thus wasn't strong enough to command the newly changed; by defecting from a House; or by being bitten by an unaffiliated vampire who required no Oaths of loyalty or fealty.  
Because of the implicit danger they posed to the House structure, they were treated as outcasts. And because they were rarely strong enough individually to take on House vampires, they were usually ignored by the Houses unless they chosen, somewhat ironically, to band together into anarchistic units.  
Chicago's vamps believed Jennifer Porter's death was the work of a Rogue, maybe one unsatisfied with living in the shadow of Chicago's Houses. This possibility posed two problems.  
First, humans didn't know Rogue vampires existed. They knew about the Houses, and seemed to take some comfort in the fact that vampires were organized into political bodies, were supervised by their Masters, and live by the code - the Canon. That was a kind of existence that humans could relate to. And that was why vamps were tight-lipped about Rogues, about the fact that vampires with no House ties, no supervision, and no laws were living in their midst.  
Second, as the vamps in the press conference had pointed out, a Cadogan medal, identical to the one Ethan (and, I belatedly realized with a glance around the room, the rest of the Cadogan vamps) wore snug around his neck, had been found at the site of Porter's death. Ethan was confident no one from his House was involved, and he'd agreed to cooperate fully in the Chicago Police Department's investigation. The CPD had interviewed him, and he'd agreed to interview each and every vampire in residence at Cadogan House to assure himself and the CPD detectives that his House, and his vampires, were innocent. He suspected, as did the representatives of Navarre House with whom he'd spoken (including Celina Desaulniers, its Master), that a Rogue was to blame for Porter's death. But that didn't explain why she'd been killed, especially since the Greenwich Presidium, the organization that regulated vampires in North America and Western Europe, would mete out its own punishment to the offender. Before the death of Jennifer Porter, the possibility of death by aspen stake had been strong enough to protect humans. Now - who knew?  
Whoever the perpetrator, the threesome believed my attack was the second attempt by the killer, and the note evidence of his bitterness at having failed to kill me.

"I'm happy we figured out who was behind these attacks." Said Jeff. "Now we just have to find out the why."  
"Also, we have to see if we can prevent something else from happening." Said Ethan, knowing that Celina was going to be a problem in the future.

"My name was in the paper today," I reminded them, "so the person who threw the brick wasn't necessarily the one who bit me."  
"But it was only your last name," Malik said. "It's doubtful he'd have been able to figure out who you were simply because of that."  
Ethan shook his head. "She's a Merit. For better or worse, as often as the family appears in the papers, he'd have been able to figure out which Merit was involved. Robert and Charlotte are older and have children. They're not the typical candidates for change."  
Disturbing, I thought, that he knew so much about my family. "But if he meant to kill me," I asked, "why the note? The language suggested a choice, like I picked Ethan over the vampire who attacked, picked Cadogan over whatever group he was affiliated with. If he was going to kill me, why would it matter?"  
Luc frowned. "So maybe this isn't related to the Porter girl's death?"  
"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," Ethan unhelpfully pronounced. "Without more information, we can't discount either possibility. What we do know is that we were the second vampires at the scene of the attack. The language of the threat suggests that whatever plans had been made for Merit - death or otherwise - they'd been unable to follow through. They blame that on her and, to a more general extent, us. Given the tone of the note, maybe the House system more generally."  
"So we're definitely thinking Rogues, then," Malik summed up, "or s House with some unspoken animosity toward us. Grey?"  
Luc snorted. "Opening day was last week. Scott's attention is on completely different things right now, namely the Cubs' chance at a pennant. It's unlikely he'd be involved in this even if they cared about House politics, which they don't. What about Navarre?"  
Ethan and Malik shared an undecipherable glance. "Doubtful," Ethan said. "As old and prestigious as Navarre is -"  
"Or so they think," Malik interjected.  
With an amused expression, Ethan finished, "Navarre would have little to gain from warring with us. Celina's strong, the GP loves her, and she's positioned herself as poster child for Chicago vampires. There's simply no reason for her to worry about Cadogan."

"So is she doing this to just play games?" Asked Merit, confused. She couldn't see why someone would play such a deadly game.  
"Some old vampires don't care about humans, see them only as cattle." Said Ethan, in a disgusted tone.  
"So the question is whether or not the GP do anything about it." Said Malik. "Those vampires are a few who are like that."  
"That's awful." Responded Mallory. The vampires nodded. Ethan got back to reading.

"Which means we've got investigating to do," Luc concluded.  
Ethan nodded at me. "Luc will station sentries at your house. We'll continue looking into the threat, and perhaps as we gain information about the Porter death, we'll learn more about this. if you see anything suspicious, or if you're attacked, call me immediately. " He pulled a card from his trouser pocket and handed it to me. It read, in tidy block letters:  
Cadogan House (312) 555-2046 NAVR No. 4/ Chicago, IL.  
NAVR number four?"I asked, card between my fingers.  
"That's our registry number," Malik explained, and I remembered the NAVR tag under the announcement in the Sun Times. "We were the fourth vampire House established in the United States."  
"Ah," I slid the card into my pocket. "Thanks. We'll call if something comes up."  
"Not that this visit hasn't been educational," Ethan said, eyes on Mallory, " but we need to get back to work. I believe we've had plenty of excitement for one evening. " He dismissed Malik and Luc and motioned us toward the training room door.  
The gazes of the vampires we passed still edged toward hostility, but at least they were tempered with curiosity. On the other hand, I'm not sure if that was better or worse; I generally preferred staying under the radar of people sucking predators.

"Wow, never been called a people sucking predator before." Laughed Lindsey. "Soul sucking yeah, but not that."

Or I would have, if I'd given that kind of thing any thought.  
Ethan escorted us back through the House. When we reached the front door, he put a hand on my arm. "Mallory, could I have a word with Merit, please?"  
"It's your pitch," she replied, and bounced through the doorway to the steps below.  
He looked at me. "My pitch?"  
"It's a soccer thing. What did you need?"  
His mouth tightened into a grim line, and I could tell he was preparing to speechify. "What happened tonight is unusual," he said. "For an Initiate to challenge a Master is virtually unheard of, as is the Master not punishing an individual who has challenged his or her authority. I'm giving you a break because you didn't choose to rise as a vampire, because our laws mandate consent, and you weren't in a position to offer it." He gazed down at me with frigidly green eyes.  
"That said, should you ever pull a stunt like this again, you will be disciplined. If you ever raise a hand to me again, you'll rue that decision. I am the Master of this House and in command of three hundred and eighty vampires. They look to me for protection, and they give me their loyalty in exchange for it. Should any not understand that bargain, I'm fast, I'm strong, and I'm willing to demonstrate those qualities. Next time, I won't pull my punches. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"  
The chill in his glare tamped down my instinct for sarcasm. I nodded.

"I knew you wouldn't get away scott free." Said Luc.

"Good." He held his hand out toward the sidewalk, inviting me out the House. "You have five days yet before the Commendation. The Canon will explain the oaths, the ceremony and the manner in which I will call you to service. Prepare yourself."  
Giving another acquiescent nod, I stepped down to the sidewalk.  
"And do something about your clothes," he ordered, just before closing the heavy oak door behind me.  
We silently walked back to the car, where I found a club flyer beneath my windshield wiper. I lifted the wiper, scanned the sheet, which advertised Red, a club in River North. I got into the car, unlocked Mal's door, and stuffed the flyer into the glove box. Partying wasn't really on my agenda right now.

"Why would Navarre be advertising their bar in Hyde Park? Especially near Cadogan." Asked Luc, eyebrow raised. "They don't let vamps from other Houses in."  
"And how would you know that, Lucas?" Asked Ethan, his own eyebrow raised.  
"It's my job to know." He replied, shrugging. Ethan let it slide.

The ride back home was quiet as we both, I imagine, mulled over the nights events. I certainly did, especially the enigma of Ethan Sullivan. For the few seconds I hadn't known who he was, I've been awed by his face and form, intrigued by his nearly tangible sense of power and determination.  
thinking he was pretty was one thing. Infinitely more disconcerting was the fact that after I discovered who he was - and even knowing what he taken from me - I could admit to a lingering attraction. His arrogance was irritating, but he was handsome, intelligent, and respected by his subjects. Ethan wore his power - his mantle of confident self-possession - as well as his designer clothes. But danger, I knew, lurked underneath that perfect facade. Ethan demanded complete and utter loyalty with no exceptions and, it seemed, had little willingness to compromise. He was skilled, strong, fast, limber, and confident enough to prove his mettle against an unknown opponent in front of a gallery of observers. And while he might have found me attractive - his flirting was proof enough of that - he wasn't thrilled about the attraction. Quite the opposite - he seemed as eager to be rid of me as I was of him.

"You noticed a lot." Said Catcher, surprised.  
"Well, yeah. I was mainly focused on him." Replied Merit.  
"She has her Grandfather's instincts." Said Chuck, proudly. Merit smiled.

For all that, I hadn't been unable to banish the memory of my first glimpse of him. An afterimage of green irises ghosted across my retinas when I closed my eyes, and I knew nothing would wipe away the visual. The impact has been that strong - like a crater furrowed into my psyche, leaving an empty space that a mortal man seemed unlikely to fill.  
I muttered a curse when I realized the anatomical direction that line of thought was headed, and renewed my attention to Chicago's dark streets.  
Mallory cleared her throat. "So that was Ethan."  
I turned the Volvo down a side street as we neared home. "That was him."  
"And you're thinking what?"  
I shrugged, unsure how much I wanted to admit my feelings, even to Mallory. "I should hate him, right? I mean, he did this to me. Changed everything. Took away everything."  
Mallory stared out the car window. "You were due for a change, Merit. And he saved your life."  
"He made me the walking undead."  
"He said you aren't dead. It was just a genetic change. And there are benefits, whether you want to admit them or not."  
Just a genetic change, she'd said, like it was a small simple matter. " I have to drink blood, " I reminded her. "Drink. Blood."  
Mallory slid me an unpleasant glance. "At least be honest about it - you can drink whatever you want. You eat whatever you want, and you'll probably never gain an ounce on those mile long legs. Blood's just a new" - she waved a hand in the air - "vitamin or something."  
"Maybe," I allowed. "But I can't put toe one in the sun. I can't go to the beach, or drive around with the top down."  
And then something really disturbing occurred to me. "I can't go back to Wrigley, Mallory. No Cubs games on a warm Saturday afternoon."  
"You're Irish way back. You get splotchy in the sun, and you haven't been to Wrigley in, what, two years? You'll watch the Cubbies from your bedroom television set, just like you always do."  
"I can't go back to school. And my family hates me."

"Now your just being nit picky." Said Mallory, looking at Merit. "You can still do those things, just at night." "And you know that I will never hate you." Said Chuck.

"Hon, your parents have always been horrible. At least this way," she gently said, "you get to feed them a steady diet of inappropriate vampire behavior."  
Pleasant as that thought was, it didn't completely assuage the grief. I knew I needed to buck up, and let go of what I'd lost and find a way to survive, to thrive, in my new world. But how do you let go of a lifetime of plans? Of assumptions about your life, about who you were and who you were going to be?  
While Mallory was more than willing to go out advice and urged me to get over my little quibbles about having been made a vampire, she wouldn't discuss the trio's bizarre conclusion that she'd brought magic to Cadogan house, that she was a witch. I knew nothing about magic beyond what I learned from television and in the tidbits Mallory, in her fixation with the occult, managed to slip into conversation. And it scared me that my normally chatty roommate was avoiding the discussion. So, as I pulled the car into the garage, I tried again.  
"Do you want to talk about the other thing?"  
"As far as I'm concerned, there is no other thing."  
"Come on, Mallory. They said you have magic. Do you feel like you're... Different? I mean, if they're right, you must have felt something."  
She t out of the car and slammed the door shut, and I winced on the Volvo's behalf as Mallory stormed to the sidewalk. "I don want to talk about it, Merit."  
"I don't feel that way anymore." Said Mallory. "I am actually kind of excited."  
"Well, then I will talk to you later." Said Catcher, smiling at her. Mallory blushed. She just realized that Catcher was hot.

I closed the garage door and followed her, both of us ignoring the black clad guards who flanked the front door. They were virtually identical to the guards who stood point at the Cadogan gate, tall and gaunt with sleek swords at their sides. Whatever Ethan's faults, he was damn efficient.  
We went into the house, which was comfortingly quiet and, present company excluded, vampire free. Mallory faked a yawn and trudged toward the staircase. "I'm going bed."  
"Mallory."  
She stopped at the bottom stair, turned, and looked at me with very little patience. "What?"  
"Just - try to be careful. We don't have to talk about it now, but if this threat thing continues, or if Ethan learns anything more about who you are..."  
"Fine."  
As we started up the stairs, desperate to comfort her as she'd done for me, I threw out, "This could be a good thing, Mallory. You could have some special powers or something."  
She stopped and glanced back, her smile sardonic. "Given how I feel right now, I can only assume that my giving you the same bullshit platitudes earlier didn't help you either." She walked up the stairs, and I heard the slam of her bedroom door. I went to my room and lay on my back on the double bed, staring at the rotating ceiling fan until dawn claimed me.

"That was the end of the Chapter." Ethan said. "Who wants to read next?" Lindsey raised her hand. The book was passed to her.

I don't know when I will post the next chapter, but hopefully it won't be as long a wait. I would love a review, they help me write faster.  
Disclaimer: I don't own it, the awesome Chloe Neill does.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own it the lovely Chloe Neill does.  
Chapter Four: The things that go bump in the night... Are probably registered voters in Cook County.

"Strange title of a chapter." Said Ethan.

Having avoided my granddaughterly duty for two days, when I rose at sunset the next evening to an empty house, I showered, dressed in jeans and a fitted T-shirt that bore the image of a ninja (and very a would have embarrassed Ethan), and drove to the West Side to my grandfather's house.  
Unfortunately, even fight happy Vampire Merit feared rejection, so I'd been standing on his narrow front stoop, unable to make myself knock, when the door opened with a creak. My grandfather peered out through the aluminum screen door. "You weren't going to come by and talk to your pop?"

"Really, you would have been that scared? I could never reject you." Said Chuck, with surprise. "You're my baby girl."  
Merit got up and went to hug her grandfather. "Sorry, Grandpa." She looked at him with unshed tears of relief in her eyes. When Merit was seated again, and she had composed herself, Lindsey read on.

Tears - of doubt, of relief, of love - immediately spilled over. I shrugged sheepishly at him.  
"Ah, jeez, baby girl. Don't start that." He pulled open the screen door, held it open with his foot, and opened his arms. I moved into them, clenched him in a fierce hug. He coughed. "Easy now. You've got a little more push in those muscles than the last time we did this."  
I released him and wiped the tears from my face. "Sorry, Grandpa."  
He cupped my face in his bear paw hands and kissed my forehead. "No worries. Come on in." I moved into the house and heard the closing of both doors behind me.  
My grandfather's house - once my grandparents house - hadn't changed in all the years I remembered it. The furniture was simple and homey, the walls adorned with family pictures of my aunts and uncles - my father's brother and two sisters and their families. My aunts and uncles had endured their upbringing with significantly more grace than my own father, and I envied they're easy relationships with their children and my grandfather. No family was perfect, I knew, but I'd take imperfection over the farce of my social climbing parents any day.  
"Have a seat, honey. You want some cookies? I've got Oreos." I grinned at him and sat down on the floral sofa. "No, thanks, Grandpa. I'm fine."  
He sat on an ancient recliner positioned kitty corner to the sofa and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Your father called me when the House called him." He paused. "You were attacked? Bitten?"  
I nodded.  
He looked over at me. "And everything's okay now? You're okay?"  
"I guess. I mean, I feel okay. I feel the same, except for the vampire part."  
He chuckled, but his expression sobered fast enough. "Do you know about the attack on Jennifer Porter? That it was similar to your attack?"  
I nodded that again. "Mallory and I saw the press conference on television."  
"Sure, sure." My grandfather started to speak, but seemed to think better of it. He was silent for a moment, the ticking of the wall clock the only sound in the house. He finally raised concerned eyes to mine. "Your father has asked that the police not be involved in your attack. But your name was in the paper, so the city will know that you were changed. That your vampire now."  
"I know," I told him. "I've already gotten calls from reporters."  
my grandfather nodded. "Of course. I would have expected that given your father's notoriety. Frankly, Merit, I'm not going to hinder a police investigation, not for crimes of this magnitude. I can't in good conscience do that, not when the killer is still out there. But I have enough pull to keep the nature of your transition under wraps but for a select few detectives. If we can limit access to that information, keep it on a need to know basis, you won't be called out as a potential victim of this killer. We can keep the press from hounding you about it, And you can learn to live as a vampire, not just as an attack victim. Okay?"  
I nodded, tears be getting to well again. Say what you want about my father, but I love this man.  
Now that said, while I'm not going to parade you through a bureau office, we still need an official interview for the record." He put a gnarly hand on my knee. "So why don't you tell me what happened in your own words?"  
My grandfather, the cop.

"You weren't just going to interview me as a cop, but as the Ombudsman." Said Merit.  
"Yes," said Chuck.  
"Something tells me that Catcher and I are going to be introduced to the story soon." Said Jeff, who was looking a little bit excited about that.

I gave him the entire tale, from my walk across campus to my conversation with Ethan, Luc, and Malik, including their Rogue vampire hypothesis. The general public may not know about the Rogues existing, but I wasn't about to hide that fact from my grandfather. When I was done, he asked thoughtful questions - essentially walking me through the entire few days again, but this time pulling out details Ethan, Luc, and Malik hadn't discussed, like the fact that the attacker bailed upon seeing Ethan, apparently aware of who you was an unwilling to risk of one on one confrontation. when we walk through the events twice, he sat back in his recliner and scratched what little hair remained on the perimeter of his head. For all that his mind was impeccably sharp, he looks so much the grandpa - tucked in flannel shirt, twill trousers, comfortable thick soled shoes, gleaming pate.

"I didn't even think of that." Said Luc frowning. The other vamps nodded in agreement with him.  
Chuck just sat back and smiled.

He sat forward again, elbows on his knees. "So the Cadogan folks have concluded that Porter's death is connected to your attack?"  
"I think they are willing to consider it a possibility."  
After nodding thoughtfully, Grandpa rose and disappeared into the kitchen. When he returned, there was a manila folder in his hand. He sat down again and opened it, then flipped through the some documents. "Twenty seven year old white female. College educated. Brunette. Blue eyes. Slim build. She was attacked just after dusk, walking her dog through Grant Park. Her blood was drained, and she was left for dead." His pale blue eyes, which match mine and color, watch the intently. "There are undeniable similarities."  
I nodded, not thrilled that Grandpa agreed with Ethan's conclusion. But what was worse, the first vampire probably had meant to kill me. Which meant I was supposed to be his second victim and would have been - death by exsanguination in the middle of the quad - had Ethan not come along.  
I really did owe Ethan for saving my life.  
And I really didn't want to owe Ethan anything.  
My grandfather reached out and patted my knee with a large calloused hand. "I'd really like to know what you're thinking right now." I frowned and picked a fingernail against the nubby fabric of the couch. "I'm alive. And I really do have Ethan Sullivan to thank for it, which is... disturbing." I looked up at my grandfather. "Someone was gunning for me. Because I look like Jennifer Porter? If so, why send the brick through my window? This guy wanted me dead, maybe for himself, maybe on someone else's behalf. And he's still out there." I shook my head. "Vampires coming out of the closet was bad enough. The city is not going to be prepared for this."  
Grandpa patted my hand again, then rose from his chair and grabbed a jacket that lay across its arm. "Merit, lets go for a drive."

"I think Jeff is right. I believe I am taking you to the office." Said Chuck.  
"You have an office? Where at?" Asked Merit "It's on the South Side, in a middle class neighborhood. The mayor appointed it about four years ago."  
"I'm sure we'll find out all about it in the next coming pages." Mallory interjected, wanting to hear more from the book.  
Lindsey read on.

My grandfather, the man who cared for me for much of my childhood, announced to the family for years ago, following the death of my grandmother, that he was taking partial retirement. He told my sneering father that he was off the streets and would in instead man a desk at in the CPDs Detective Division, helping the active detectives with unsolved homicides.  
But as we drove south in his gigantic Oldsmobile - think red velveteen upholstery - he confessed that he hadn't exactly told us the truth about his role with the CPD. he was still working for the City of Chicago, but in a wholly different capacity.  
As it turned out, when vampires came out of the closet those eight months ago, my grandfather wasn't the least bit surprised.  
" Chicago has had vamps for over a century," he said, hands at ten and two as he drove through the city's dark streets. "Navarre's been here since before the fire. Of course, the administration hasn't been in there that long, only a few decades. But still, the Daleys new about you. Tate knows about you. There aren't many in the upper echelon who don't." Eyes on the road, he leaned slightly sideways. "By the way, Mrs. O'Leary's cow had nothing to do with it."  
"All that time and no one thought to tell the city that vampires were living among them? All that time, and no leaks? In Chicago? That's kind of impressive, actually."  
My grandfather chuckled. "If you think that's impressive, you'll love this. Vamps aren't even the tip of the supernatural iceberg. Shape shifters. Demons. Nymphs. Fairies. Trolls. The Windy City has pretty much every entry in the sup phone book. And that's where I come in."

"All that is real?" Asked Mallory, amazed. Merit looked pretty stunned as well. "How have humans never noticed?"  
"Most try to assimilate. Others live outside the human world." Said Ethan. The girls nodded.  
"It's also our job to cover up any unusual happenings in the city." Chuck added, pointing to himself and his crew.  
"So are all childhood fairy tales true?" Asked Merit, still slightly shocked.  
"And then some." Luc said nodding at her.

I glanced over at him, brows raised. "What do you mean, that's where you come in?"  
My grandfather started to speak, but stopped himself. "Let me start at the beginning?"  
I nodded.  
"All those supernatural contingents - they have disputes, too. Sniping between the House's, fairy defections, boundary disputes among the River Nymphs."  
'Like, the Chicago River? "  
My grandfather turned the car on to a quiet residential street. "How do you think they get the river green for St. Pat's?"  
"I assumed dye."  
He huffed out a sardonic sound. "If it were only that easy. Long story short, the nymphs control the brand his and channels. You have River work to do, you call them first." He held up a hand. "So you see, this isn't just domestic disputes and petty theft. These are serious issues. - issues the majority of the boys in blue don't have the training, the experience, to deal with. Well, Mayor Tate wanted a way to funnel these issues down to a central location, a single office. Folks who could handle the disputes, take care of things before they could affect the rest of the city. so four years ago, he created the Ombudsman's office."  
I nodded, remembering Ethan's reference. "Ethan mentioned that, said something about having Mallory talk to the Ombud. They think she has magic. That she's a witch or something."  
Grandpa made a sound of interest. "You don't say. Catcher will be interested to hear that."  
"Catcher?" I asked. "Is he the Ombudsman?"  
My grandfather chuckled. "No, baby girl. I am."

"That was a long roundabout way to get to that conclusion." Said Jeff.  
"It was, but she needed to understand." Chuck said.  
"And now for the reaction." Said Lindsey, reading on.

I froze, turned my head to stare at him. "What?"  
"The Mayor likes to call me a 'liaison' between the regulars and the s ups. personally, I think 'liaison' is a bullshit bureaucrat word. But the Mayor asked me to serve, and I said yes. I'll admit that I never came across any vamps or shifters when I walked the beat, and I was curious as all get out to meet these folks. I love this city, Merit, and don't mind making sure everybody gets a fair shake."  
I shook my head. " I don't doubt that, but I don't know what to say about the rest of it. You were retired, Grandpa. You told us - you told me - that you were retired."  
"I tried retirement," he said. "I even tried a stint in the evidence locker, a desk job. But I was a cop for thirty years. I couldn't do it. Wasn't ready to give it up. Cops have lots of skills, Merit. We mediate. We problem solve. Investigate." He shrugged. "I just do it for some slightly more complicated folks now. I started at a desk in City Hall, and now I have my own staff."  
he explained he hired four people. The first was Marjorie, his secretary, a 50 year old woman could become battle hardened by 25 years of staffing phone and one of the city's most crime ridden police bureaus. the second was Jeff Christopher, twenty-one-year-old computer prodigy and, as it happened, a shape shifter of as of yet unidentified shape. The third was Catcher Bell. Catcher was 29 and my grandfather said, gruff. Warned my grandfather: he's pretty, but he's wily. Give him a wide berth.

"You think I'm pretty?" Catcher asked Chuck, with a gruffer than usual voice.  
"I think you're handsome." Said Mallory, who immediately covered her mouth then turned red. Merit snickered, and Mallory elbowed her. Catcher just smiled.  
"So how come no one knows what you turn into, Jeff?" Asked Merit.  
Jeff and Catcher looked at each other, then Jeff answered, "Because it is considered a faux pas to ask."  
"Oh."

"That's only three," I pointed out when my grandfather paused.  
Silence, then, "There's a vampire. Housed, but his colleagues don't know he works for me. He avoids the office unless absolutely necessary. They do the ground work," my grandfather continued, "so all I have to do is step in and play good guy." I doubted he was as uninvolved as all that, but - especially in contrast with my father - the humility was refreshing. "You won't believe this," he said on a gravelly chuckle, "but I'm not as spry as I used to be."

"Wait, so you have a vampire divulging House secrets?" Asked Ethan, upset.  
"No, only if it involves war or other issues between the Houses. And no I won't tell you who it is." Explained Chuck.  
"Maybe you should have a representative from each House, to make sure you get accurate information." Ethan suggested, still not entirely on board, but willing to compromise with the Ombud.  
"That's not a bad idea. I will have to see about funding for it though."

"No!" I exclaimed, feigning shock, and he laughed in response. "I can't believe you've been keeping this from us. I can't believe you've been playing with magic for four years and didn't tell me. Me! The girl who wrote about King Arthur for a living."  
"He patted my hand. "It wasn't you that I was trying to keep the information from."  
I nodded in understanding. My father's discovery of my grandfather's secret would have led to one of two results: arranging to have my grandfather fired, or trying to manipulate my grandfather to get closer to the Mayor. Ever scheming was my father.  
"Still," I said, watching through the window as the city passed by, " you could've told me."  
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm now your Ombudsman. And I'm taking you to our secret headquarters."  
I looked over at him, watched him try unsuccessfully to hide a smile. "Secret, huh?"  
He nodded, very officially.  
"Well, then," I said. "That makes all the difference."

"Your father would really do something like that?" Asked Malik, he didn't think a human could be so callus.  
Merit nodded. "Yes." She didn't elaborate further.

The office of the Ombudsman was a low, unassuming brick building that stood at the end of a quiet block in a middle class neighborhood on the city's South Side. The houses were modest but well tended, the yards surrounded with chain link fence. My grandfather parked the Olds along the curb, and I followed him up a narrow sidewalk. He tapped buttons on an alarm keypad on the wall next to the door, then unlocked the front door with a key. the interior of the building was equally unassuming, and looked like it hadn't gotten a style upgrade since in the late 1960s. There was a lot of orange. A lot of orange.  
"They work late," I noted, the interior well lit, even given the hours.  
"Creatures of the night serving creatures of the night."  
"You should put that in your business cards," I suggested.  
We walked past the reception area and down and central hallway, then into a room on the right. The room housed 4 metal desks that were placed at intervals, to back to back set out from each facing wall. The front and back walls were covered by rows of gunmetal grey filing cabinets. Posters lined the white walls, most of gorgeous, scantily clad women with flowing hair. The prints looked like they were part of a series: each featured a different woman wearing a tiny scrap of strategically placed fabric, but the 'dresses' were cut in different colors, as were the pennants they held in their hands. One woman was blonde, her dress blue, and she held a pennant that read " Goose Island". A second had long, raven dark hair and was dressed in red. Her pennant read North Branch. These, I surmised, were some of the Chicago River nymphs.  
"Jeff. Catcher."  
At my grandfathers voice, the men who sat at two of the desks looked up from their work. Jeff looked every bit the 21 year old computer prodigy. He was fresh faced and cute, a tall, lanky guy with a map of floppy brown hair. He wore trousers and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, the sleeves rolled halfway up his lean arms, long fingers poised over an expansive set of keyboards.  
Catcher had a solidly ex-military look about him - a muscular body beneath a snug olive T-shirt that read 'Public Enemy Number One' and jeans. His head was shaved, his eyes pale green, his lips full and sensuous. Had it not been for the annoyed look on his face, I'd have said he was incredibly sexy. As it was, he just looked disgruntled. Wide berth, indeed.

Merit reddened. Ethan looked at her with an eyebrow raised. He felt possessive over Merit, but understood that in the book they weren't on the best terms. He hoped to change her perspective on him.  
Mallory frowned when she seen that Catcher was smiling. The vamps just shook their heads at the jealous ones.

Jeff grinned happily at my grandfather. "Hey, Chuck. Who's this?"  
My grandfather put a hand at my back and led me farther into the room. "This is my granddaughter, Merit."  
Jeff's blue eyes twinkled. "Merit Merit?"  
"Just Merit," I said, and stuck out a hand. "It's nice to meet you, Jeff."  
Rather than reaching out to take my outstretched hand, he stared at it, then looked up at me. "You want to shake? With me?"

"Why is that so surprising?" Asked Mallory, confused.  
"Because vamps and shifters are not the best of friends. There is a long history between the two." Said Luc.  
"Well I am not going to judge someone over something that happened possibly decades or even centuries ago." Merit said.

Confused, I glanced back at my grandfather, but before he could answer, Catcher, his gaze on a thick ancient looking book in front of him, offered, "Its because you're a vamp. Vamps and shifters aren't exactly friendly." That was news to me. But then, up until twenty minutes ago, so we're the existence of shifters and the rest of Chicago's supernatural citizens. "Why not?"  
Catcher used two fingers to turn a thick yellowed page. "Aren't you the one who's supposed to know that?"  
"I've been a vamp for three days. I'm not really up on the political nuances. I haven't even had blood yet."

"And that means you probably will have a crazed thirst when it hits. It could be dangerous for anyone to be around when it happens." Said Ethan, with an ominous tone. Merit looked slightly frightened. She didn't want to hurt anyone by mistake. Upon seeing this Ethan continued, "If you decide to turn, we will do it the right way. No pain killers in your system." Merit nodded.

Jeff's eyes widened. "You haven't had blood yet? Aren't you supposed to have some kind of crazy thirst after rising? Shouldn't you be, you know, seeking out willing victims for your wicked bloodlust?" His gaze made a quick detour to the stretch of T-shirt across my chest; then he grinned up at me through a lock of brown hair. "I'm O neg and completely healthy, if that matters."

Jeff reddened. The others chuckled. Ethan on the other hand, frowned. He could tell Catcher was smitten with Mallory, so he didn't mind Merit's description. But Jeff was available. He caught Merit's eye and she smiled at him. He knew then that Jeff was not a competitor for her heart.

I tried not to grin, but his enthusiasm over my notably un-buxom chest was endearing. "It doesn't, but thanks for the offer. I'll keep you in mind when the bloodlust hits." I looked around for a chair, found an avocado green monstrosity behind one of the two empty metal desks, and sank into it. "Tell me more about this vamp shifter animosity."  
Jeff shrugged negligently and went back to tinkering with a vaguely octopus shaped stuffed animal on his desk. A buzz sounded, and my grandfather pulled a cell phone from a hip holster, took a look at the caller ID screen, and glanced up at me. "I need to take this. Catcher and Jeff will get you started." He looked at Catcher. "She's trustworthy, and he's mine. She can know everything that's not marked Level One."  
At my smile and nod, he turned and disappeared through the door.  
I had no idea what level one was, but I was pretty sure that was the stuff I'd really want to know. Or was the stuff that would scare the crap out of me, so it was probably better not to press the point today.  
"Now you can get the real scoop," Jeff said with a grin.  
Catcher snorted and closed his book, then slid back in his chair and linked his hands behind his head. "You met any vamps yet? Beyond Sullivan, I mean?"  
I stared at him. "How did you -"  
"Your name was in the paper. You're Cadogan's vamp, which means you're Sullivan's vamp."  
My skin prickled. "I am not Sullivan's -"  
But Catcher waved a hand. "Babe, not the point. The point is, and I'm guessing from that bristly tone you've met Sullivan and you understand at least the basics of vamp politics, that your people, and I use that term loosely, are a little particular."  
I gave him a sly smile. "I've gotten that sense, yeah."  
"Well, shifters aren't. Shifters are happy. They're people; then they're animals; then they're people again. What's not to be happy about? They live with their friends. They drink. They ride their Harleys. They party in Alaska. They have hot shifter sex."  
At that revelation, Jeff winged up his eyebrows at me, an invitation in his eyes. I've bit down on a grin and and shook my head sternly in response. Apparently unruffled, he shrugged and turned back to his computer. Happily.

Everyone snickered at the happy shifter. He just shrugged and smiled.

"Vampires, on the other hand," Catcher continued, "play chess with the world. Should we let people know about us, or shouldn't we? Are we friends with this House or that one? Do we bite people, or don't we bite people? Eek!" He bit down on a crooked finger dramatically.  
"Wait," I said, holding up a hand, remembering something Ethan had said about Cadogan vamps. "Stop there. What's the story with the biting?"  
Catcher scratched absently at his head. "Well, Merit, a long, long time ago -"  
"On a continent far, far away," Jeff threw in.  
Catcher chuckled, the sound low and sensual. "Way back when, Europe got pissy about its vamps. Figured out that aspen stakes and sunlight were the best treatment for an overabundance of vamps and took out most of the fanged population of Europe. Long story short, vamps eventually formed the precursor to the Greenwich Presidium, which made the survivors take an oath never to bite another unwilling human." He smirked. "Instead, in true manipulative vamp form, they found people who could be blackmailed, bribed, glamoured, whatever into giving it up for free."  
"Why buy the cow?" I asked.  
He nodded with approval. "Precisely. When the technology was developed to preserve blood, to bag it, most vamps turned away from humans. Immortality makes for long memories, and some Houses thought they'd be safer if they cut contact with humans almost completely, relied on bagged blood, or shared blood with each other." At my raised eyebrows, he added, "It happens. The vamp biology needs new blood, a new influx, so its not a reliable source of nutrition. But it happens - sometimes ritually, sometimes to pass along strength."  
Jeff's throat clearing filled the brief pause in Catcher's explanation. "And there's the other thing," he prompted, a flush coloring his cheekbones.  
Catcher rolled his eyes. "And some vamps find there to be a...sensual component in sharing." I felt a blush cross my own cheeks and nodded studiously, trying not to think about the details of that act - or any green eyed vamps it could be performed on.

"So you claim to hate me, but you still have the hots for me? That doesn't make sense, Merit." Ethan said to a blushing Merit.  
"I know," she responded, covering her face to hide her blush. "So why fight the attraction?" Asked Ethan.  
"Because in the book you still had Amber. I refuse to be considered a consort. And don't forget, you seem to be fighting the attraction too."  
"But I don't think I would have made you a consort." He said. "And I already admitted my attraction."  
"Can we move on?" Asked Lindsey. At Ethan's nod she continued.

"Anyway," Catcher continued, "as times changed, a few Houses, Cadogan included, gave their members the choice."  
"To drink or not to drink," Jeff put in.  
"That was the question," Catcher agreed. "Some vamps think humans are dirty and bitings a little too throwback. Cadogan takes heat on it. Not that doing it in secret is any better."  
"Raves," Jeff said, with a knowing nod.  
"What are raves?" I asked, leaning forward, eager to gather as much information as they were willing to pass along.  
Catcher shook his head. "We'll save that sordid little chapter for another time."

Merit looked at Ethan and asked, "What are raves?"  
"They are essentially drinking parties. Small intimate affairs. Usually, there is consent. Sometimes the humans are glamoured. They are mostly kept secret because of the backlash."  
"Thank you for telling me and not sugar coating it." Merit said. She was happy that she was receiving the facts.  
"You're welcome. I want you to know everything that being a vampire entails." Ethan said, mirroring her thoughts. "Becoming a vampire is a big decision."

"Okay, then what about vamps being particular?"  
"Vamps think their politics, this House bullshit, is the biggest issue in the world. They think it outshines human concerns, world famine, whatever. And a lot of supernatural folks agree. Vamps are predators, alpha predators, and where vamps go, a lot of fey follow."  
"Fey?"  
"You know - sups. Supernaturals," he testily added, at my confused expression. "Anyway, angels, demons, your heavier sorcerers, they pay attention to the Houses. Who's screwing who, who's allied with who, all that crap. Shifters, on the other hand, could give a shit. They're just too laid back."  
"And we're too neurotic?"  
Catcher smiled. "Now you're getting the picture. Vamps don't appreciate that shifters are too lackadaisical about their problems. Vamps want alliances. They collect friends they can rely on, especially the older ones that remember the European Clearings. Next time you're at Cadogan House, check the symbols above the front door. Those are alliance insignia; they show who Ethan's got signed up as allies. Really, they're backup in case humans get pissed or other Houses decide Cadogan's drinking is a little too risky. And because shifters don't play those kinds of games - Keene's never gonna post insignia over Ethan Sullivan's front door - vamps ignore them." Catcher sighed. "There are also rumors that shifters had the chance to step in during the Second Clearing, but chose not to act, not to become involved."

"That is actually true." Said Ethan. "I was around for the Clearings. The shifters of Europe refused to help." Not knowing what to say to that, there was a pause. Lindsey read on.

"Not to save lives?" I asked. Catcher nodded heavily, his expression tight, his gaze on Jeff, who looked to be working to ignore the direction of the conversation.  
"I see. And who is Keene?"  
"My pack leader," Jeff offered, looking up from his keyboard with a bright expression. "Gabriel Keene, Apex of the Central North American. He lives in Memphis."  
"Huh." I stood up and paced from one end of the room to the other, then back again. The feast of information he'd just thrown at me - needed to be digested. "Huh."  
"Verbal, this one," Catcher said. Then quickly added, "Jeff, quit staring at her ass."

Everyone laughed, when Jeff blushed.

There was throat clearing behind me before typing started again in earnest.  
This was much more complicated than I'd imagined. Granted, before the change, I hadn't thought much about vamps. the few thoughts I'd had - especially after watching Celina Desaulniers seduce her way through a Congressional hearing - weren't flattering. the few I had since - well, they involved too much Ethan Sullivan and too little everything else.  
"I'd love to know what you're thinking about, babe."  
I looked around, saw Catcher grinning knowingly, brows lifted as he waited for a response. I felt the blush to the roots of my hair, but wave the hand negligently. "Noth- nothing. Just thinking."  
His "Uh-huh" didn't sound convinced, so I turned the tables. "Where do you fit in all this?"  
No response until, abruptly, Catcher sat up and began flipping through his book again. That was answer enough, I thought.  
My grandfather stepped back into the office, and since Catcher was no longer broadcasting, he took the floor, giving his crew the basic facts on recent revelant events in my life - the bite, the threat, the challenge. When he given the full replay to Jeff and Catcher, he updated me on the investigation into Jennifer Porter's death. As a potential victim - and the three of them agreed that I'd been next in line - he thought it important to keep me informed.  
Unfortunately, a lack of communication was standing in the way of progress on the investigation. Although the Navarre vamps promised to work with the CPD in solving the crime, they'd been tight lipped about their findings, if they had any. Grandpa's vampire connection helped fill in some blanks spots, but in Catcher's words, the vamp was an enlisted man, not an officer, so his access to information was limited. Plus, the vamp skittish about being labeled a traitor by his House, so he reported to the Ombud, not the CPD. That meant any information he did uncover had to be passed through channels. And even when it found its way to an investigator's desk, CPD detectives were still suspicious. Cops were old school; they don't trust information from supernatural sources. Even my grandfather's thirty-four year service record didn't immunize him from the prejudice. Many of the cops he worked with, served with, just thought he cavorted with phony weirdos.  
More important, all the communication in the world couldn't help the fact that the only evidence recovered in Porter's death was the Cadogan medal. Detectives found no other physical evidence, no witnesses, and even the medal had been wiped clean of fingerprints. Unfortunately, with little else to go on, and plenty of prejudice in their favor, the CPD was loath to ignore Cadogan House as the source of their suspect.

"That's a shame that sups are treated so unfairly." Said Mallory. Everyone nodded in agreement.

By the time we gone over all that, I was seated at one of the empty desks, tapping a pencil absently against its top. I looked up, met Catcher's eyes. "Do we agree that he didn't do it?" I assumed I didn't need to specify who 'he' was.  
"He didn't do it," was Catcher's immediate response. "But that doesn't mean someone in Cadogan House wasn't involved."  
Elbow on the desk, I put my chin on my hand, frowned at him. "He said he was interviewing the vamps that live in Cadogan House. He doesn't think Cadogan vamps were involved."  
"Catcher didn't say a vamp from Cadogan House," my grandfather clarified. "He said someone in Cadogan House. We know a medal was taken from Cadogan. The House probably keeps extra medals on hand in case a vamp from another House defects or a pendant gets lost. And Commendation's coming up. That's when the medals are handed out to new vamps. They're there."  
"And for the taking," Jeff pointed out.

"Good thing we caught that." Said Luc. "I think anyone who needs a new medal, should have to sign a form, that way we know who recently got a new one."  
"That is not a bad idea." Said Ethan. "I will notify Helen. Also maybe have a ledger that keeps track of outsiders who come and go."

Catcher stood up and stretched, his T-shirt riding up to reveal washboard abs and a circular tattoo on his stomach. Gruff was Catcher, but a little delicious.

Merit blushed. This book is embarrassing, she thought.

"Vamps date out of their House," he said, dropping his arms. "And sometimes they bring their dates home. If medals weren't properly secured, any of the visitors could have snagged one. And if Sullivan wasn't such a goddamn tight ass, he'd consider that."

Ethan looked at Catcher, eyebrow raised. "Tight ass, huh?"  
Catcher shrugged. He knew it was true. He said that it was true.

"You two don't get along?" I asked.  
Catcher chuckled and sat down at his desk again, the chair squeaking beneath him as he adjusted himself. "Oh we get along fine. Sullivan and I go way back."  
"How so?"  
He shook his head. "We don't have time for that story tonight. Suffice to say" - he paused thoughtfully - "Sullivan appreciates my unique talents."  
"Which are?"  
Catcher chuckled gravelly. "Never on a first date, sunshine." He ran a hand over his buzzed skull and reopened the book on his desk. "And just because Sullivan and I are friends doesn't mean he's not a tight ass. And that doesn't mean he's willing to admit that he's wrong."  
That being the most profoundly accurate statement I'd heard in days, I laughed heartily. "Oh yeah," I said, patting my heart. "That gets me right here. Ethan said something about Rogue vampires being involved," I offered. "But it doesn't sound like they could have gotten into the House. I mean, security looked pretty tight."  
"Rogues are one theory," Grandpa said. "And we've passed it along to the bureau."  
"So that's your roll in all this?" I asked. "Passing information along? "  
"We're not investigators," Grandpa confirmed. "This office works more like a diplomatic corps. But since our vamp doesn't talk to cops, we've got access to information the cops don't have. The Mayor said to pass the info along, so we passed."  
"And to be fair," Catcher added, "you and your little sorceress are involved now. That gives us incentive to pay attention please to get this wrapped up - and this psychopath off the streets - sooner rather than later."

"How did you know about Mallory?" Asked Merit, but she guessed on her own and said, "Never mind."

I lifted an eyebrow, wondering how he'd learned about Mallory's secret identity, but he looked away. Sullivan, I guessed, had made a phone call.  
My grandfather settled a hand on my shoulder. There were bags under his eyes I only just recognized, and I felt suddenly guilty for having waited so long to talk to him, for worrying him needlessly, even as I knew it wasn't me, but the loosed killer, who put the concern in his eyes now.  
"That's all we've got," my grandfather said. "I know it isn't very satisfying, not when you've been a victim. When your life has been turned upside down."  
I squeezed his hand, appreciating the validation. "Anything helps," I said, meeting each of their eyes to get my appreciation across. "It helps."

"I didn't even think about how you would feel as a victim" said Ethan, frowning.  
"It's okay. Now this possibly won't happen." Said Merit in response.  
"It definitely will not be happening"

After round of goodbyes, Grandpa walked me outside to await my cab. He locked up the building, then guided me to a wooden park bench that sat in one corner of the building's small neatly clipped lawn.  
"I still can't believe you're involved in all this," I told him. "There's so much going on in the city, and people think vamps are the sum total of it." I glanced over at him, worry in my gaze. "And you're right on the front lines."  
Grandpa chuckled mirthlessly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to front lines. It's been eight months. Sure, the coming out was a little rocky, but things have been stable for months now. I wouldn't say humans have accepted vamps, but there seems to be a kind of...curiosity." He sighed. "Or we're in the eye of the hurricane. The lull before more rioting, chaos. And there's no telling what that might do to the balance of power. Like Catcher was saying a lot of sups take the vamps superiority for granted. They see them - you," he corrected, looking at me over his glasses, I move so much like my father's, it tripped my heart nervously, "as alpha predators. Sups tend to follow the vamps lead because of that. But that loyalty, if you want to call it that, was conditioned on vamps staying out of the limelight. Keeping under the radar, keeping human eyes off the supernatural world. They've never had good PR, the vamps. And you saw those nymph posters in there?"  
I nodded.  
"Who's to say, if the nymphs set out to control Chicago, they couldn't?" He chuckled. "They'd have a pretty easy time getting the male population behind them. Although shifters are probably the only group with the numbers and power to take a national stand against the vamps. I don't think they're interested in that, but then again, we're dealing with unknowns." He shrugged.  
"The truth is, Merit, this is the first supernatural outing in modern history, and it happened in the post Harry Potter era. In the post Lord of the Rings era. Humans are a little more comfortable thinking about supernatural beings, supernatural happenings, then they were in the days when witches and vampires burned. Hopefully, things will be different this time." He was quiet for a moment, giving us both a chance to consider that possibility - the possibility that we could all just, to put it tritely, get along. That was certainly better than imagining the worst case scenario. Burnings. Lynchings. Inquisition like proceedings. The kind of mob violence that arises when a majority fears the loss of its power, the unbalancing of the status quo.

"Yes. Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Said Ethan, shivering. He remembered what it was like during the Clearings. Seeing friends from afar burned at the stake, but being unable to help. The stuff that will give you true nightmares.

when my grandfather began talking again, his voice was quieter. More solemn. Weighed down, maybe.  
"There's just no precedent. I didn't make thirty-four years on the force by making random guesses, so I can't say what will happen or, if worse comes to worse, who would win. So we'll keep our eyes and ears open, hope the sups keep trusting us, and hope the Mayor steps in if it comes to that."  
"It's a hell of a time to've been changed into a vampire." I sighed.  
He laughed cheerfully - the sound sweeping away the sudden melancholy - and patted my knee. "That it is baby girl. That it is."  
The door opened behind us, and Catcher stepped outside, his boots clacking on the sidewalk. "Can I have a minute?" He asked my grandfather, inclining his head in my direction. Grandpa looked at me for permission, and I nodded. He leaned in and kissed my forehead, then put his hands on his knees and rose.  
"I brought you here because I want you to know that you always have a safe place, Merit. If you need help or advice, if you have questions - whatever. You can always come here. We know what you're dealing with, and we'll help you if we can. Okay?"  
I stood and gave him a hug. "Thanks, Grandpa. And I'm sorry it took so long to come by."  
He patted my back. "That's no problem, baby girl. I knew you'd call when you had the chance to come to terms."  
I didn't think I'd come to terms, but I didn't argue the point.  
"Give her some cards," Grandpa directed and, after a quick wave, shuffled back into the building. Catcher pulled a handful of business cards from his pocket and handed them over. They bore only a phone number with the label "OMBUD."  
"Consider it a Get Out of Jail Free card," Catcher explained, then sat down on one end of the slatted bench seat. He stretched out, slouching low and crossing his feet at the ankles. "So you challenged Sullivan," he finally said.  
"Not on purpose. I went to Cadogan to show him the note. I was pissed about being changed, but I didn't intend to argue with him about it."  
"And what happened?"  
I bent down to pluck a dandelion from the dewy grass next to the bench and twirled it in my hand, sending a cloud of ephemeral seeds into the air. "Ethan said something in inordinately possessive, and it got to me. I challenged him. I think the vamp genetics for a little more eager for a fight than I was, but he offered me a deal - to release me from my obligations to the House if I landed a punch."  
Catcher slid me a glance. "I take it you didn't?"  
I shook my head. "I ended up on my back on the floor. But I got a few moves in. I held my own. And he didn't land a blow either. He seemed surprised that I was strong. That I was fast."  
Catcher blew out a breath while he nodded. "If you held your own against Sullivan, your reflexes are better than they should be for a baby vamp. And that means, Initiate, that you're going to have some power. What about smell? Hearing? Any improvements?"  
I shook my head. "Not much above normal, unless I get angry."  
Catcher seemed to consider that, tilting his head to regard me. "That's...interesting. Could be those powers aren't online yet."

"Even Catcher noticed that I'm not right." Said Merit. "How did you vamps miss it?"  
"As Catcher so helpfully pointed out, I don't like to admit that I am wrong. Or I just didn't see it." Said Ethan.  
"I have never heard of a botched transition," said Luc, looking to Lindsey and Malik to ask the silent question.  
Lindsey shook her head and Malik said, "those transitions are rare."

A motorcycle raced down the dark street, and we were quiet until it disappeared around the block.  
"If you want to harness your power," Catcher continued, " whatever that power may be, you'll need training. Vamps have their own traditions of sword work - offensive moves, defensive patterns. You need to learn them.  
Having depleted the dandelion of its seeds, I dropped the empty stem To the ground. If I'm stronger, why do I need training?"  
"You're going to be a power, Merit, but there's always someone stronger. Well unless you're Amit Patel, but that's not the point. Trust me - there's going to be lots of vampire kiddies who want to take you for a spin. You'll invite challenges from good guys and bad guys alike. To stay healthy, merely being stronger or faster won't be enough. You need moves." He paused, nodded. "And until the CPD brings this murderer in, it'd help if you could handle yourself. It'd make Chuck feel better, and if Chuck feels better, I feel better."  
I smiled collegially, appreciative that my grandfather had Catcher at his back. "Can Jeff handle himself?"

"Of course I can," said Jeff. "I may not look it, but I can handle a fight."

Catcher made a sarcastic sound. "Jeff's a fucking shîfter. He doesn't need martial arts to get around in the world."  
"And you? Do you need martial arts?" In lieu of answering he flicked his hand in my direction. a burst of blue light flew from his open fingers, aiming straight from my head. Immediately, I dropped into a crouch again, then angled to the side as he shot a second burst. With an electric sizzle the bursts exploded a shower of sparks.  
I snapped my gaze back to the low slung man on the bench, muttering a string of curses that would have turned even my grandfather's ears red. "What the hell are you?"  
Catcher stood and extended a hand to help me up. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. "Not people."  
"A witch?"  
His eyes narrowed dangerously. "What did you just call me?"  
I'd obviously offended him, so I backtracked. "Um... Sorry. I'm a little unclear on all the ...right labels."  
He watched me for a moment, then nodded. "Accepted. That's a pretty big insult for someone like me."  
I didnt tell him that the vamps threw the word around with casual ease. "And what is that exactly?"  
"I am - was - a fourth class sorcerer, proficient in the minor and major, greater and lesser Keys."  
"Keys?"  
"The division of power. Of magic," he added at my blank stare. "But because I made the Order's shit list" - he pointed down at the words on his T-shirt - "I've been excommunicated."  
"The Order? Is that a church?"  
"More like a union. I was a member."  
Although I understood the words he used, I had no context in which to place anything he'd said, so none of it made sense. I needed a guidebook. A big, thick, illustrated, tabbed, and indexed guidebook to the Sups of Chicago. Did they make those? But the part about his being excommunicated was clear enough, so I focused there. "Your magical rogue?"  
He shrugged. "Close enough. Back to you. I'll train you."

"You want to train her?" Asked Ethan, "why?"  
"I'm sure we will find out but I bet it is as a favor to Chuck."  
"Merit, you would learn all that if you read the Canon." Said Malik.  
"Maybe I could read it?" She asked, looking at Ethan. He nodded.

"Why?" I looked back at the building, then flicked him a suspicious glance. "You can shoot blue lightning from your hands, but your working in a rundown building on the South Side with my grandfather. Training me will take time away from your work" - i pointed at his T-shirt - " and whatever other supernatural business you've got going on. Besides, isn't that the vamps job?"  
"Sullivan will clear it."  
"Why?"  
"Because he will, Nosy. Weapons, objects of power, are the second Key. That's my bag, my specialty, and Sullivan knows it."  
"And why do you care who trains me?"  
Catcher looked at me for a long time, long enough that crickets began to chirp around us. "Partly because Chuck asked me to. And partly because you have something of mine. And the time will come when its up to you to protect it. I need to know you'll be ready for that."

Everyone looked at Catcher. He just shrugged. He didn't know what the book was talking about.

I took my own pause. "Are you serious?"  
"Very."  
I stuffed my hands into my pockets, tilted my head at him. "What am I protecting?"  
Catcher just shook his head. "Not the time for that."  
It was not time for all the good stuff, I thought as my cab turned onto the block and stopped at the curb before us.  
"Tomorrow at eight thirty," Catcher said, then gave me an address i guessed was in River North. I walked toward the waiting cab and opened the back door.  
"Merit."  
I glanced back.  
"She needs training, and a lot of it. The last thing I need is another misguided neophyte screwing around with the lesser Keys."  
Sullivan had definitely made a call about Mallory. "How do you know that?" I asked him.  
Catcher snorted. "Knowing things is what I do."  
"Well then you know she's not taking the news well. Maybe you should give her a call. What with the fangs and serial killer, I'm full up on supernatural drama at the moment."  
He grinned at me, white teeth flashing. "Babe, you're a vampire. Deal with it."

"Thank you for making the call, Ethan," said Mallory. "I probably would have ignored it, had you not have notified Catcher.  
" Your welcome."

Mallory was asleep when I got home, tucked safely into bed. And why wouldn't she be safe with a pair of armed guards outside? I headed straight for the fridge. The bags of blood still hell no appeal, so I grabbed an apple and munched at the kitchen counter, flipping through the day's paper. the front page featured a picture of mayor Tate, tall and darkly handsome, under the headline Mayor Announces New Anticrime Measures.  
I snorted, wondering what the readership would think if they understood the anti crime measures being employed in a small brick building on the South Side.  
After flipping through the paper, I checked the clock. It was two a.m., hours before sleep would pull me under. I was debating a hot bath when a knock sounded at the door. I headed to the living room, chucking the apple core on the way, and checked the peephole. The nose and hair were distorted by the angle, but there was no mistaking a blond pissed off vampire in black Armani. I flipped the locks and pulled the door open.  
"Good evening, Ethan."  
His gaze immediately dropped to the ninja print across my chest. I got an arched brow for the fashion choice - at least, that was how I chose to interpret the disdain - before he raised flame green eyes to mine.  
"You think to bring down my House by spying on us?"  
Anticipating Fight Number Two, I sighed but invited him in.

"Wait, spying? I wasnt spying. Did you have me followed? " Asked Merit, frowning at Ethan.  
"I have no idea where that came from." He said, also frowning.  
"That was the end of the Chapter." Said Lindsey, trying to break the tension. "Who wants to read next?" Chuck raised his hand. The book was passed on to him.  
Before he could start reading, Ethan said, "We only have enough time to read one more chapter tonight. After that I will show you to your rooms."

I would really love a review. Good or bad. Thank you for all the follows and favorites. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Five: Just A Quick Bite

Chuck started reading immediately.

Sullivan walked in, followed by Luc and Ethan's redheaded consort from the sparring room. Since I hadn't officially met Ethan's flame, I stuck out my hand as she sauntered through the front door in hip high leather pants and a pale blue tank she'd unfairly burdened with the task of holding up her pendulous breasts.  
"Merit," I said.  
She looked at my hand and ignored it. "Amber," she said before turning away.  
"Nice to meet you," I muttered and shadowed the trio to the living room. I found Ethan standing, while his pretty vampire accoutrements fanned out on the sofa.  
"Merit."  
Playing it safe, I opted for the honorific. "Liege."  
He arched an eyebrow. "What do you have to say for yourself?"  
I opened my mouth, then closed it again, trying unsuccessfully to figure out what I'd done. "Why don't you go first?"

"So she has been a vampire for three days, hasn't even had the chance to do anything except visit her Grandpa. What could she have possibly done, for you to pick a fight with her?" Asked Mallory, confused.  
"If I had her followed, than it might be because she went to the Ombud office." Said Ethan. "No Master wants a possible traitor to give away secrets."  
"She has been to the House exactly once they she remembers. What secrets could she have gleaned in that short amount of time?" Was Mallory's follow up question.  
"I don't know. Maybe the size of my arsenal?"  
"Can I continue?" Asked Chuck. "We are limited on time."  
Ethan waved a hand. Chuck read on.

There was a two part groan from the couch.  
Ethan planted his hands on his hips, sweeping back the sides of his suit jacket in the process. "You've been to see the Ombud."  
"I went to see my grandfather."  
" I want you yesterday. About your role, your place. And I thought we'd agreed that you weren't going to challenge - already got a green to spy on the House, to betray my House, clearly falls into the the challenging my authority category." He stared down at me. The moment pass and I tried to wrap my mind around the accusations.  
His nostrils flared. "I'm waiting, Merit."  
The tone was condescending. Patronizing. Profoundly irritating. And from what I've seen so far, typical Sullivan. I tried to be the bigger person and explained, "I haven't agreed to spy on anyone, and I resent the implication. You may not like me, Sullivan, but I'm no traitor. I've done nothing that justifies the accusation."  
This time, he blinked. "But you admit that you were at the office?"  
"My grandfather," I carefully began, controlling my voice to keep from screaming at him, " Took me to his office to meet his staff, to tell me about Chicago's other supernaturals. I didn't agree to spy on anyone or betray anyone. And how could I? I've been a vampire for three days, and I'm willing to admit that I'm still pretty ignorant."  
Amber humphed. "She has a point, Liege."  
I gave him credit - he kept his eyes on me. I got a long look before he spoke again. " You don't deny that you went to the own Ombud's office?"  
I grappled to discover the logic underlying the questions, found nothing. "Sullivan, you're going to have to help me here, because, contrary to the information you've been given, I haven't agreed to do anything for the Ombud's office. I went there to learn, to visit, not to get an assignment. I haven't agreed to spy, to sneak notes, to give updates, anything. I narrowed my gaze and cross my arms. " And I don't see what's wrong with visiting my grandfather at his office."  
"What's wrong," Ethan said, "is that your grandfather's office is trying to pin the Jennifer Porter murder on my House."

"No they're not." Said Merit, trying to make Ethan understand. She looked at him and said, "if anything, they're trying to help."  
"I know that, but my book self seems to be convinced that they're not." Said Ethan, looking back at Merit.

" The Chicago Police Department is trying to pin the murder on your house," I corrected. "From everything I've heard, my grandfather and everyone else in his office think you're innocent. But you know there was a Cadogan medal at the crime scene. Assuming the forensics unit didn't plant that evidence, the medal came from your House. Cadogan is involved, regardless of what my grandfather does, and whether you like it or not."  
"No one from my House would do this."  
"Maybe not the murder," I agreed. "But unless you hand those medals out as party favors, someone from your House has a part in it. At the very least, someone let in the person who did take it."  
I didn't expect his reaction.  
I expected another rant, an outburst about the loyalty of Cadogan vamps. I didn't expect his silence. I didn't expect him to walk to the love seat and sit down, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. I didn't expect him to run his hands through his hair, then rest his head in his hands.  
But that was what he did. And the move, the posture, was so humble, so tired, and so very, very human, that I had the sudden surprising urge to reach out, to touch his shoulder, to comfort him.  
It was a moment of weakness, of yet another breach in the defenses I tried to erect against Ethan Sullivan.  
That, of all the goddamn times, was when the hunger rose.

"Uh oh." Said Lindsey.  
Merit suddenly looked scared. She didn't want to hurt anyone.  
"It's okay, Merit. At least it hit with other vampires around." Said Luc.

I nearly lost my breath from the sudden race of fire through my limbs, and had to grip the back of the love seat to stay upright. My stomach clenched, pain radiating in waves through my abdomen. I went light headed, and as I touched my tongue to the tip of an eyetooth, I could feel the sharp bite of fang.  
I swallowed instinctively.  
I needed blood. Now.  
"Ethan," Luc said his name, and I heard rustling behind me.  
A hand gripped my arm, and I snapped my head to look. Ethan stood next to me, green eyes wide. "First Hunger," he announced.  
But the words meant nothing.  
I looked down at his long fingers on my arm, and felt the warm rush of fire again. I curled my toes against it, reveled in the heat of it.  
This meant something. The feeling, the need, the thirst. I looked up at Ethan, dragging my my gaze past the triangle of skin that showed through the top, unfastened button of the shirt, then the column of his neck, the strong line of his jaw, and the sensuous curves of his lips.  
I wanted blood, and I wanted it from him.  
"Ethan," I whispered in a voice so husky I barely recognized it.

Merit blushed. She had a feeling that she was going to be embarrassed. Also the fact that her grandfather was reading only made it worse.  
She realized that Mallory was looking at her. "What?" She asked. Mallory just shook her head and asked the vampires, "Does, the First Hunger always make new vampires act like that?"  
"No, Merit is just special." Said Lindsey, smiling.

Ethan's lips parted, and I saw the flash of silver in his eyes. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by smoking green. I edged closer to his body, wet my lips, and then, without a single thought as to the consequences or what the act admitted, pressed them to his throat. He smelled so good - clean, soapy, everything male and masculine. He tasted so good - of power and man. The ends of his hair brushed my cheek as I kiss the long line of his neck.  
"Ethan," I whispered again, his name an invitation.  
A promise.  
He went statue still as I press a kiss to the skin just below his ear. I could hear blood singing in the veins that lay millimeters below the press of my teeth. Then he sighed, and the sound echoed through my head, an acknowledgement of shared passion, of mutual desire.  
The others around us began to talk. I didn't want to talk. I wanted action. Heat. Motion. I scraped my teeth against his neck- not breaking skin, just enough to hint at what I wanted. Of the direction I would take. His pulse raced, and I fought not to bite in too quickly, not to rush the pleasure of it.  
But through the burn of arousal, something cold, unwanted pricked. I shook my head and pushed it back.  
"Liege, you can't feed her the first time. She needs human or Novitiate blood. You've got too much power for a first feeding. She's strong enough as it is."

"Merit looked up. " You really think I will be that powerful? " she asked Ethan and the other vamps.  
"You almost got to me, when you challenged me. I'll say you got some power." Said Ethan. "Not many have gotten even close." Said Malik.

Ethan growled but didn't move. He stayed exactly where he was, beneath my lips, a silent submission. Pleased, I slid my hands around his waist.  
"Get her off him, Lucas!"  
I felt the cold touch again - a drop of chilled water against my heated skin. Irritating. Unwelcome. It was my conscience, I realized, begging me to wake up, to shoulder through the hunger. But superego warred with deep seated instinct and latent attraction. I'd won.  
I growled and flicked the tip of my tongue against his ear, ignoring my own warnings. "Ethan."  
"Luc, you'll have to - I haven't - " He groaned earthily - and God, what a sound, thick enough to touch - as I trailed a line of kisses down his neck. "I haven't fed in two days. Merit, you have to stop." Given that he was leaning into my body when he said it, his words lacked conviction.  
A hand grabbed my arm. Ever so slowly, I turned my head to find coral painted nails digging into my biceps. The touch was enough to distract me, to make me realize, my lip still against Asians neck, that I was acting out the cannon. despite his protest, I'd put on and was preparing to fight him. I was preparing to break down his clothes and take him on the floor.  
I was preparing, in every conceivable fashion to service my lord.

"Oh my God!" Said Merit, from behind her hands, which were covering her incredibly red face. "No one say a word." She growled put.  
She knew she was going to be embarrassed.  
To her surprise, they listened. Even though Luc and Lindsey were smiling, they understood. Her grandfather was just as red faced as she was. He was not expecting that. Catcher and Jeff looked like they were holding back laughs, as was Mallory. Mallory let a giggle slip and Merit elbowed her hard. That shut her up fast. Malik looked at her knowingly. He and his wife went through almost the same thing. Minus the audience, of course.  
But it was Ethan who looked the most shocking. His eyes were a blazing silver and he was breathing quite heavily. He regained his composure and then waved Chuck on to keep reading.

That insight did it, pushed me through the hunger with an ice cold hand, pushed me through the desire to the other side - back to the land of rational thought and good choices.  
Gathering all the strength I had, I inhaled and pushed myself away from him and from her, needing space to regain control of my body. I hunched over, hands on my knees, gasping for breath. The hunger left me sweating even in my thin T-shirt and jeans, goose bumps prickling my arms as my body cooled again. I could still feel the hunger, a caged tiger prowling through my body, eager for sustenance, waiting to rise again. I knew any control I displayed was temporary. Illusory.  
But in some deep, new core of me, I reveled in that knowledge. The tiger paced and was thrilled to be merely biding her time. She would have her chance.  
She would drink.  
Luc asked, "Blood?"  
"Kitchen," Ethan hoarsely answered. "They delivered bagged. Amber, go with him. Give us a minute."  
"Lot of control for seventy two hours," Luc observed. "She reined it back in."  
"If I wanted observations, I'd ask for them." His voice was firm, obviously troubled. "Go into the kitchen and ready the blood, please."  
When we were alone, when I'd slowed my breathing, I stood straight again and dared to meet his eyes. I waited for a sarcastic response, but he merely looked at me, his expression carefully blank.  
"It's fine," he said, his tone clipped. "To be expected."  
"Not by me."  
Ethan pulled the edges of his shirt collar, then smoothed the lapels of his jacket. Regaining his composure, I thought, maybe because he wanted something from me, as well. The silvering of his eyes demonstrated that, however much he protested.  
"First Hunger can arise suddenly," Ethan said. "There's no need to apologize."  
I arched a brow at him. "I wasn't going to apologize. If it weren't for you, there'd be no thirst."  
"Don't forget your place, Initiate."  
"As if you'd let me."  
"Someone has to remind you," Ethan said, stepping closer so that the cuffs of his trousers topped my sneakers. "You promised me submission. You agreed that your rebellious behavior was done. You agreed not to challenge me again. And yet you're poised to bring the walls of Cadogan House down around us."

"Ugh, bad move." Said Mallory, to Ethan. "You questioned her honesty."

"Master or not," I said, glaring up at him, "take it back, or I'll challenge you again." I'd been betrayed enough times in my life to know the value of honor and honesty, and tried to live by that code. "I have given you no reason to doubt my loyalty, which is a fairly tremendous thing given how you changed me."  
His nostrils flared, but he didn't challenge the statement. "Merit, so help me, if you support Tate's office over my House..."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Asked Merit.  
"Tate is not trustworthy and he is secretive." Said Ethan.  
"At the moment in the book, I could say the same thing about you," said Mallory. She could tell her friend was getting upset.  
Malik jumped in. "We have nothing to hide. And he is a very trustworthy Master. He cares about his Novitiates. There are some Masters who don't, unless they suspect treason."  
Mallory and Merit both nodded. Ethan said, "Thank you, Malik."

I looked at him blankly. Tate? Mayor Tate? I don't even know what that means, supporting his office. Why would I be supporting his office? "  
"The Ombud is the creation of the Mayor."  
I still missed his point. "I understand that. But why would the mayor care what I do? Why would he care if one of his employees brings a grandkid to work?"  
Ethan gazed down at me. "Because even if you're estranged from your father, he's still Joshua Merit, and your still his daughter. On top of that, your the granddaughter of one of the most influential men in the city. And, in case we needed additional fuel, you're clearly stronger than average." He flicked a hand in the direction of the kitchen. "Even they recognize that."

"So let me get this straight, you don't trust Merit, because she is my granddaughter?" Said Chuck, raising an eyebrow. "If I am such an influence to the city, wouldn't that at least make me a little bit trustworthy? I was the one who practically raised Merit."  
Ethan swallowed. "I'm sorry, Chuck. My book self is apparently aware of that, but she is still your son's daughter and I didn't know her very well."  
"That does not give you the right to accuse me of being dishonest or disloyal." Said Merit. "I hate being judged because of who my father is."  
"I apologize to you as well, Merit. I had no reason not to trust you."  
Merit just nodded. Ethan knew he stepped in it, big time.

Ethan stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved away, turning to look at a row books on the shelf next to the front door. "Tate's not trustworthy," he said. "He knows about us - has known about us - and even though his appointment of your grandfather seems well intentioned, the man's secretive. We understand that he knows about Rogue vampires, but he hasn't released that information to the public. That raises questions - is he trying to avoid more public panic, or is the information a bargaining chip he'll use against us later on? And, he won't speak to the heads of the House; instead, he works through the Ombuds Office. As helpful as he may be" - he turned back - "as well intentioned as he may be, your grandfather still works for Tate. Tate controls the purse and the policy direction. That means he pulls the strings.  
"My grandfather is his own man."  
Ethan stepped back from the bookshelf, crossed his arms, and looked at me. A line creased his forehead. "Think about it, Merit: vampires announce their existence here, in Chicago. We're the first Houses in the US to do so. Tate stands first among mayors in that regard - first in terms of setting supernatural policy, in terms of making alliances with the Houses, maintaining security. A man can use that power, that position. But whatever he has plans - and rest assured the man has plans, probably has had them as long as he's known about us - he's not being forthright. I can't afford for you to become part of his plans, or for my House to be caught in the eddies. So until you learned enough to act appropriately, to use discretion when discussing our concerns, you'll stay away from the Ombuds office."

"Catcher is right; you do play chess with the world." Mallory said, looking at Ethan.  
"Did you ever think, that maybe you have some power in that regard as well?" Asked Merit, also looking at Ethan. "Celina doesn't have to be the only voice for Chicago's vampires. You have options. Probably more than you did before."  
"You're right, Merit. I do have options. But I still have to protect my House."

I wouldn't stay away, and he probably knew that, but there was no sense in belaboring the argument. Instead, I cocked my head at him. "How did you know I went to the office?"  
"I have my sources."  
I didn't doubt it. But while I wondered which source he'd tapped - Catcher, Jeff the undercover vamp who serviced the Ombud 's office, or someone else assigned to watch me - I knew better than to ask. He'd never tell me.  
But someone had given him information about my activities, someone who hadn't been close enough to know exactly why I was there. That was worth passing along.  
"Some free advice," I said. "The person who's giving you information wasn't inside the building. If they had been, they'd have known why I was there, what was discussed. And more important, what wasn't discussed. They made deductions and managed to convince you those deductions were fact. They're playing you, Sullivan, or at least trying to puff up sparse information to increase their own cachet."  
For a moment, Ethan didn't speak. He just looked at me, like he was seeing me for the first time, had suddenly realized that I was more than his newest rebellious underling, more than the daughter of a financial mogul.  
"That's a nice analysis."  
I shrugged. " I was in the room. I know what went on. She, or he, doesn't. And back to the point, he's my grandfather. Other than Mallory, he's all I've got. He's my only real family tie. I can't cut that tie. I won't, even if you think it's a challenge. Even if you think it's rebellious and goes against your sovereign authority."  
"You have other ties now, Initiate. Cadogan House. Me. You're my vampire now. Don't forget that."

"Oh yeah, that's a great tie. People I don't know and a Master vampire who doesn't trust me." Merit said, sarcastically. Ethan frowned. He didn't see it that way, but said nothing. She was entitled to her opinion.

I think he meant it as a compliment, but his tone was still too possessive for my taste. "Whatever happened six days ago, I belong to no one but myself, Sullivan, and least of all you."  
"You are what I made you."  
"I make myself."  
Ethan took a step forward, then another, until I was stepping away to avoid him, until he'd backed me against the living room wall, until I felt the cold slickness of painted plaster behind me.  
I was caught.  
Ethan braced his hands against the wall, one on each side of my head, boxing me in, and stared down at me. "Do you want disciplining, Initiate?"  
I stared at him, a flame igniting my core. "Not especially." Liar.

"Not again. If these books are going to be about my granddaughter's physical love life, I don't know if I will be able to sit through them." Said Chuck. "Can someone else finish reading, please." Malik raised his hand, and in a clinical voice, read on.

His eyes searched mine. "Then why do you persist in taunting me?"  
The eye contact felt too intimate, so I turned my head away and tried to swallow down the reluctant arousal, uncomfortably aware that I couldn't blame my actions, my interest, on the vampire lurking inside me. On the genetic change. She and I were one in the same - same mind, same genetics, same unwanted, undeniable, attraction to Ethan Ethan Sullivan.  
But I reached out for that whisper of denial, wrapped my hands around it, and held it like a life preserver. In that second, I dreamed of running away, of beginning again with a new name, in a new city, where I didn't long to clench fingers into his hair and push my mouth against his until he capitulated and took me against the cold white wall, pushed his body into mine to alleviate the need, to warm the chill.

Merit was blushing a bright red as was Chuck. He did not need to hear that.

Instead, I said, maybe honestly, "I wasn't taunting you."  
He didn't move, not until he lowered his head, his lips even closer to mine than before. "You wanted me a moment ago."  
This time, his voice was quiet, his words not the challenge of a Master vampire, but the entreaty of a boy, of a man: I am right, aren't I, Merit? That you wanted me?  
I forced myself to be honest, but I couldn't force myself to speak. So I stayed silent, and let the silence stand for words that I couldn't bring myself to say: I want you. Despite myself, I want you. In spite of what you are, I want you.  
"Merit."  
"I can't."  
He dropped his head so that his lips hovered just above mine, his breath on my cheeks. "Give in to it."  
I flicked my eyes up to meet his, which were the deep, dark green of primeval forests - ancient, unknowable, and hiding monsters in their wooded depths. "You don't even like me."  
He smiled a little evilly. "That doesn't seem to matter."

"Well, if that is not a slap in the face." Said Merit, dejectedly. "Would it have killed you go admit that you like me?" Mallory grabbed her hand in comfort.  
Ethan said nothing, knowing that it would only make it worse.

A slap wouldn't have pulled me out of the trance any faster. I twisted beneath his braced arms, then moved away. "I see."  
"Yes, I get that you don't want to be attracted to me, that you think I'm beneath you, but thank you for pointing it out anyway. And in case you haven't realized it, I'm not thrilled about it, either. I don't want to like you, and I certainly don't want to be with someone who's appalled by me. I don't want to be...desired begrudgingly."  
He stepped toward me with the grace of a slinking panther. And just as dangerous.  
"Than what do you want me to say?" His voice low, thick with lambent power. "That I wanted you to taste me? For all that you're stubborn, sarcastic, completely unable to take seriously my authority, and patently disrespectful, that I want you. Do you think this is what I would choose?"  
There it was again - the list of flaws. The reasons he shouldn't have been attracted to me. The reasons he hated the chemistry that, against both our wills, flared between us. My voice quiet, the sound oddly far away, I told him, "I don't want anything from you."  
"Liar," he accused, and lowered his mouth to mine.

"You two are gonna fight it the whole way." Said Mallory, face palming.  
"How could I not, when he clearly doesn't seem to want me in the same way in the book?" Asked Merit, looking at her. "You know what I want in life, I am studying it for a reason. Besides, we can barely string two sentences together without arguing."  
Malik read on quickly before they could break out into a full blown discussion.  
Ethan on the other hand was thinking of ways to get back in Merit's good graces. He was beginning to not like his book self.

He kissed me, and the circuit closed again.  
His lips were soft and warm, and implored a reaction, challenged me to join in, to give in, even if only briefly, to the chemistry. My limbs loosened, my body daring me to sink in to it, to revel in it. But I'd come close enough to the fire, when I nearly jumped him to pull the blood from his veins. That had been enough. That had been too much. So I kept my lips together and tried to turn my head away.  
"Merit," he intoned, "be still." Ethan's fingers slid along my jaw, knotted into my hair, and he used his thumbs to tilt up my chin. He took a small step forward, our bodies aligning, just touching.  
He dipped his head and kissed me again, thumbs stroking my cheeks as he moved his lips across mine, caressing, calming, not coercive. Then, when his tongue slipped between my lips and stroked mine, when the electric thrill slid up my spine, I gave in.  
Tentative at first - and only responding after promising myself that I'd never, ever touch him again - I kissed him back. I gave back his kiss, sucked on the tongue he offered me, responded to his nips and bites with my own.  
I couldn't seem to help it. I couldn't not kiss him. He tasted so good, smelled, so good. He was heaven, a golden beacon in the supernatural darkness that spindled around me. But this wasn't something to blame on magic. This was much more elemental, something much more powerful. It was want, desire in its most basic form.  
But I couldn't afford that, not to want someone who didn't want me. Not really.  
So I put my hand on his chest, and felt the thud of his heart beneath the soft cotton of his dress shirt before I pushed him away. "Stop."  
He took two halting steps backward, his chest rising and falling as he pulled in air, and stared down at me.

That wasn't so bad, Merit thought. Ethan on the other hand thought it was amazing and that apparently Merit thought in great detail. But the other shoe was about to drop.

"That was a mistake," I said. "It shouldn't have happened."  
He wet his lips, then ran a hand across his jaw. "No?"  
"No."  
Silence, then, "I could offer you more."  
I blinked, looked up, met his eyes. "What?"  
"Power. Access. Rewards. You'd need be available only to me."  
My lips parted, words momentarily failing me, the shock of it was so overwhelming. "Are you asking me to be your mistress?"

"What?" Asked Chuck. "My baby girl will never be someone's dirty little secret."  
"Oh, trust me it wouldn't be a secret." Said Lindsey.  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Asked Ethan, eyebrow arched.  
"Just the you announce titles at Commendation. Also, being a consort is not what a girl wants in this day and age."  
"And just what do they want?" He asked, but he was looking at Merit.  
"They want romance and love," Merit whispered, but everyone still heard it.

He paused, and I had the sense that he was deciding if that was, in fact, what he was offering me. Likely weighing the costs and benefits, deciding if easing his erection was worth the trouble is cause. A flush crossed his sculpted cheekbones. "Yes."  
"Oh, my God." I dropped my gaze, put a hand at my abdomen, wondering how this night had suddenly become so bizarre. "Oh, my God."  
"Is that a yes?"  
I looked up at him again, saw the flash of panic on his face. "No, Ethan, Jesus. Definitely not."  
His eyes flashed, and I wondered if he'd ever been turned down before, if any woman in his nearly four hundred years of existence had rejected the opportunity to service him. "Do you understand what I'm offering you?"  
"Do you understand that it's not 1815?"  
"It's not unusual for Masters to have Consorts."  
"Yes," I said, "and your current Consort's in my kitchen right now. If you need...relieving, talk to her." The shock - the sheer shock of his offer - was beginning to wear off, replaced by a little bit of hurt, a little bit of insult that he didn't like me enough to offer me something else, and that he thought I'd be flattered by the little he did offer.  
"As much as it pains me to say it, Amber isn't you."  
I stared at him. "I don't even know what that means. Should I- What? Be flattered that while you don't like me, you're willing to sacrifice just to get into my pants?"  
His nostrils flared, a tiny line appearing between his eyebrows. "You're crude."  
"I'm crude?" My voice, the whisper that came out was fierce. "You just offered to make me your whore."

"You know, being a consort use to mean, an honor. But I guess times do change." Said Ethan, heatedly, but becoming less so at the end.  
"Most girls today would see it as an insult." Said Mallory "I am beginning to see that. Maybe, I should get rid of the whole consort title. Make it obsolete." Said Ethan, thinking out loud.  
At hearing that, Merit smiled. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

He took a step closer, his jaw clenched, the muscle trembling. "To be the Consort of a Master vampire is an honor, Initiate, not an insult."  
"It's an insult to me. I'm not going to be your - anyone's - sexual outlet. When that...happens for me, when I meet him, I want partnership. Love. You don't trust me enough for the former, and I'm not even sure you're capable of the latter."  
He flinched, and I immediately regretted the words.  
It was a long moment before I could stand myself enough to meet his eyes again. "I'm sorry. That was a really horrible thing to say. It's just - I live in a different time," I told him, "with different expectations. I wasn't born to serve someone indiscriminately, without thoughts of my own. Whatever else my father has done, he raised me to be independent. To find my own way." He just didn't believe my own way was the correct one most of the time.  
"I'm trying to be myself, Ethan. To keep some sense of myself in the middle of all this" - I raised a hand, made an abstract gesture with my fingers - "chaos. I can't be that kind of girl." There was more to that statement, I thought, than just my response to his offer, than a response to being his mistress. I wasn't sure I could ever be what he wanted - the acquiescent vampire, the perfect little soldier in his Cadogan army.

"I would never ask you to forget who you are completely." Said Ethan, looking at Merit. "I just ask that you follow the rules. And to listen when I make a judgement call."  
"You could have explained that in the book, but you appear to want nothing to do with me." Merit said, dejectedly.

Ethan's expression, already shuttered, completely blanked, his green eyes going flat. "Then we're done here. I've explained the situation to you. Whether you like it or not, we're not human. You're not human. Not any longer. Our rules are different than those you're used to, but they are the rules. You can decry them, deny them, but they are the rules." His eye so much power. "And if you disobey them, if you balk, you defy me."  
"I'm not rebelling," I said, as calmly as I could, realizing how many lines I'd already crossed, we'd already crossed, in the span of the evening. "Nor am I trying to usurp your authority. I'm just trying to" - I searched for words - "avoid it."  
Ethan straightened the cuffs of his shirt. "We have rules for a reason, Merit. We have Houses for a reason - for a multitude of reasons, regardless of your opinion, regardless of whether you find...merit in the idea. Like it or not, you are my subject. If you deny your House, there will be repercussions. You'll be deemed an outcast. A Rogue. You'll be rejected by all vampires - ignored and ridiculed because you chose not to trust me. You'll have no access to the Houses, to the members, or to me."  
I looked up at him. "There has to be something between anarchy and subjection."

"Because I wasn't raised to just follow someone. I was raised to think for myself. To lead instead of follow." Merit said.

Ethan glanced up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. "Why do you think of it as subjection? You saw the vampires at my House. You saw the House. Was it a dungeon? Did they look miserable? When you challenged me, was I unfair to you? Did I treat you cruelly or give you a fair chance to prove yourself? You're smarter than this."  
He was right of course. The vampires in the House clearly respected him and looked, at least to my eyes, to be happy in their acquiescence to his leadership. But that didn't mean I was able to, blindly, to put my trust in him, or any of them. I didn't have a cache of faith big enough for that.  
We stood silently until Ethan made a final frustrated sound and called for Amber and Luc. As they moved through living room, Amber skewered me with a look that was both knowing and victorious. She somehow knew, had probably heard, what he offered me, and that I'd turned it down. But I hadn't just taking myself out of the running; I'd secured her position. She winked jauntily, and I felt a sudden, unwelcome stab of jealousy. I didn't want his hands on her. I didn't want her touching him. But I'd had my chance to take her place, and I'd refused. The decision had been made, so I ignored the irritation and looked away.  
"Let's go," Ethan said.  
Luc nodded at me. "There's blood on the counter. It's warm and ready to drink."  
Ethan didn't look at me as he turned for the door, and I felt the weight of his disappointment. However illogical, I wanted him proud of me, proud of my fight and my strength, not disappointed that I failed to meet the basic criteria for vampire behavior. On the other hand, I shouldn't have to apologize for not crawling into bed with the head of my House.

"I think in some small measure, I was proud of you. Not many vampires stand up to me, especially not a three day old vampire." Said Ethan, smiling at Merit. "But I also would have been frustrated. Vampires love rules and not following them would force my hand. I wouldn't want to have to punish you."  
"I think that I, in the book was definitely not ready for change. I also am not use to having to follow someone else's rules. I don't think it fair to expect me to be just ready to follow blindly, no questions asked."

Luc and Amber preceded him outside. There were two vehicles at the curb - a black Mercedes roadster that I guessed was Ethan's, and a heavy black SUV. Luc and Amber headed for the latter. Traveling security, I assumed.  
When he reached the first step, Ethan turned and glanced back at me, face carefully blank.  
"I would have asked you if I could have, Merit. I'd have asked for your consent, and had you make the decision then and there. But I didn't. Couldn't have, without your dying. There certainly wasn't time for you to debate the merits of affiliation. Would that I had. Would that I had, so the choice would have been made."  
After a pause, he continued, his voice suddenly tired. "The clock is ticking. You have four days until the Commendation, until your formal initiation into the House. The time is coming when you'll have to decide whether you want to accept the life you've been given and make the most of it, or run away and live on the fringes of our society, withstand the humiliation of being rejected by the House, by everyone else like you. By everyone who understands what you are. Who you are. How you thirst." His gaze intensified. "Your desire. And that decision, such as it is, is yours." With that, he trotted down the stairs.  
I followed him outside, and flanked by the two guards at my door, I stood on the stoop and called his name. He glanced back.  
"About the hunger. Will it always be like that?"  
He gave me s rueful smile. "Rather like being a Cadogan vampire, Merit, it will be what you make it."

"I don't think you have to keep reminding her about when Commendation is," said Jeff. "I don't think she will likely forget."  
"No, I don't think I would." Merit said.

I had to give him credit - he was right about one thing. The time has come for me to make a decision. To make a choice, either to accept the life he given me, such as it was, or eschew Ethan, the House, the community of vampires. I could choose to live as a member of the American Houses, or make a life for myself on the outskirts. But an eternity of watching friends, the world, change around me while I stayed the same, was going to be lonely enough. Watching while Mallory aged, while my grandfather aged, while I looked eternally 27. What kind of life would it be, to also reject the House, to pretend at being human, and outlive my family, no companions but musty books and medical grade plastic bags?  
Still, I wasn't ready to take that next step. Not yet. There were loose ends to be wrapped up. Well, one major loose end. And that was what put me in the car at four o'clock in the morning, leaving the sanctum of Wicker Park for the neighborhood of vampires.  
This time I wasn't headed for the House. I was headed for the university. And I was a woman on a mission, so when I arrived, I ignored the permit warnings, parking in the first empty on street spot I could find. I got out of the car, locked it behind me, and walked to the main quad, empty satchel over my shoulder.

"Why would you go to the place you were attacked?" Asked Catcher, who had been quiet most of the Chapter so far.  
"Maybe to finish mourning the loss of my human life." Said Merit in a whisper.

I stood at the edge of the quad and stared at the expanse of grass, sidewalks and trees, my hand at my neck. I'd always loved this spot, had usually paused before heading into the Walker Building, which housed the English department, so that I could get a taste of grass and sky. I walked to the spot where I'd been attacked, crouched in the spot where my blood has been shed, and touched a hand to the grass. There was nothing here, no blood, no trampled grass, no indication at all that the few square yards of lawn had been witness to birth, to death. To me. To Ethan.  
The tears I thought I'd finish shedding began to fall. I dropped to my knees, knotted my fingers in the carpet of grass, wishing that things had gone differently. That I hadn't made the regrettable decision to leave the house, to walk the quad. I sobbed there on my knees, the frustration, the regret, nearly overwhelming.  
There was laughter across the lawn. I knuckled away tears, lifted my head. Two students, a couple, walked hand in hand down the sidewalk, before disappearing between buildings. Then the night was quiet again, most of the windows dark, no breeze to stir the trees that dotted the quad.  
I closed my eyes. Inhale. Exhaled. Open my eyes again. But for the cloak of grief, it was a beautiful night. One of an eternity of nights I'd have the opportunity to see. But in order to see those nights, I'd have to figure out a way to deal with loss, to mourn lives that would end, even as mine continued. A way to deal with my obligations to Cadogan.  
A way to deal with Ethan.  
I'd have to figure out how to support Mallory, how to keep my relationship with my grandfather in spite of our positions. I have to figure out how to tell the good guys from the bad guys in this strange, new world I'd been dropped into.  
More important, I'd have to figure out whether I was one of the good guys. Whether Ethan was one of the bad guys.  
I realized the means to that end. It had to be a choice. I'd been made a vampire without my consent - attacked and violated, of course, without my consent. The only way I'd be able to move on, to build a new life, to take ownership of my new life, would be to make a conscious decision for myself, for better or worse. To live, or not to live, as an acknowledged vampire.  
I could make that choice. Here and now, I could take ownership, take back my life again.  
"Vampire it is," I whispered. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get me off my knees in the middle of the night, in the middle of the quad.  
And this time I rose on my own terms.

"Even though this will never happen, I am proud of you, baby girl," Chuck said to Merit. "Doing that took bravery. To face the unknown and make the conscious decision to not be a victim."  
"Yeah, most victims can't even go back to where they were attacked, at least not right away." Said Luc, looking at Merit in a new light.  
Ethan didn't say anything, but he was proud of her too.  
Mallory grabbed her hand and squeezed.

My direction decided, I resituated the empty satchel diagonally across my chest and headed for Walker. The building was dark, locked. I pulled out my key, unlocked the door, and made my way up the stairs.  
Each graduate student had a mailbox. I used mine like a scrapbook, kept in the detritus of my time at Chicago. A ticket stub from a midnight screening of Rocky Horror I'd watched with fellow TAs and lecturers. A ticket stub from a basketball game we played against NYU, where I did my undergraduate work.  
I opened my satchel and loaded papers, memorabilia, mementos into the bag. Tangible memories. Evidence of my humanity. But also in my box was something new - a pink envelope, sealed but unsigned. I unhitched my bag, placed it on the floor at my feet, and slipped my thumb under the seal.  
Inside was a scalloped pink card, glittery letters congratulating a girl for her sixth birthday. I grinned, opened it, and found inside, beside an equally glittery unicorn, the signatures of a good chunk of the grad students in the department, most with smart alecky well wishes for my new fanged life.  
I didn't realize until I saw the card that I needed it. I needed the connection between my old life and my new one. I needed them to know why I'd disappeared, why I stopped showing up to class. It was closure of a kind. It didn't excuse the fact that I hadn't called my friends in the department, hadn't called my mentor or my committee chair. God only knew when I'd have the strength to do that.  
But it was something.  
For today, it was enough.  
So I grabbed my bag, left the key in my mailbox, and walked away.

"It's good that you had that closure." Said Lindsey.  
"Your friends have a weird sense of humor." Said Ethan.  
"My friends are English lit geeks, of course we're weird. My sense of humor falls into sarcasm most of the time." Said Merit in response.

I returned to the brownstone to find as promised, a glass of now cold blood on the kitchen counter. The house was quiet, Mallory still asleep. I was alone, and glad that she wasn't there to witness what I was about to do.  
I stared down at the orange red liquid in its glass, and felt the hunger rise again - signaled by the humming of my blood. My pulse quickened, and I didn't need a mirror to know that my eyes had silvered. Still it was blood. My mind rejected it, even while my body craved it.  
Craving won.  
I wrapped a hand around the glass, fingers shaking, and raised it knowing this was truly the end of my life as a human, and the beginning of my life as a vampire. There'd be no more justifications, no more rationalizations.  
I lifted the glass to my lips. I drank.  
It took mere seconds for me to empty the glass, and it still wasn't enough. I drained two more bags that I pulled straight from the refrigerator - bags I hadn't bothered to heat or prepare. I drank the liquid - more than I'd ever put into my body at one time - in minutes, finally stopping when I felt my blood slow again. Three bags of blood, and I'd ingested them like I'd been starved for food and water, denied sustenance for weeks.  
When the hunger was sated, I caught sight of the discarded bags on the floor. I was appalled at the act, at the substance, at the fact that I'd actually drunk - willingly drunk - blood. But I clamped a hand over my mouth, willing myself not to bring it up again, knowing that if I did, I'd just have to drink more. I slid to the floor, my back against the side of the island, and clutched my knees to my chest, forcing myself to breathe. Forcing my brain to catch up with my body - to accept what it needed.

"It could be worse. At least you would have been turned during a time when you wouldn't have to drink from the source." Said Ethan, remembering his first hunger.

To accept what I was.  
Vampire.  
Cadogan Initiate.  
That was where Mallory found me - sitting on the kitchen floor, empty medical bags at my feet - minutes before the sun began to rise. She was prepped for work - black suit, heels, chunky jewelry, sassy handbag, blue hair a frame around her face.  
Her smile faded. She crouched in front of me. "Merit? Are you okay?"  
"I just drank three bags of blood."  
Dropping her purse at my feet, Mallory picked up an empty plastic bag with the tips of two fingers. "So I see that. How do you feel?"  
I giggled. "Fine, I think."  
"Did you just giggle?"  
I giggled again. "Nope."  
Her eyes widened. "Are you drunk?"  
"On blood? No." I swatted the idea with a hand. "It's mother's milk to me."  
Mallory picked up the other bag, then walked them both to the trash can and tossed them in. "Uh huh."  
"And how are you? Feeling witchy?"  
She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a soda, then popped the tab. "I'm adjusting. I guess I can say the same for you?"  
I frowned, considering, then began counting off the events on my fingers. "Well, I found out my grandfather's been lying for four years about his job. I met a sorcerer, met a shape shifter of indeterminate origin, got propositioned by said shifter, found out I was almost the victim of a serial killer, almost got hit by these magical electric blast things, made out with Ethan, rejected Ethan, was threatened by Ethan." I shrugged. "Pretty average day."

"Wow, why not just lay it all on me." Said Mallory, sarcastically.  
Merit just shrugged and smiled.

Her mouth fell open, and she gaped at me until closing it with a click of her teeth. "I don't know where to start on all that. How about, your grandfather's been lying?"  
I pulled myself up from the floor, hands on the countertop to steady myself. It took a moment for my head to stop spinning - the aftereffects, I presumed, of drinking so much blood at one time. "Drink please?"  
Mallory went back to the fridge, and grabbed another soda, held it up for my approval, and when I nodded, popped the top.  
After she handed it over, I took a long pull, discovering to my delight that diet grape soda was a refreshing chaser to three pints of human blood. I thanked her for the drink, then filled her in on the Ombud and his slate of employees. I didn't tell her about Catcher's recommendation that Mallory get training. I decided the safer course of action was to just put the two of them in a room together - all that beauty and stubbornness - and watch the fur fly.  
"I have to train tonight," I told her. "I'm meeting Catcher at a gym on the Near North Side. You want to come along?"  
She shrugged. "I could do that."  
"Do we need to talk about something? I mean, are we okay?"  
Mallory smiled ruefully. "We're fine. It's not your fault I'm... Whatever I am."  
"I bet Catcher has some answers for you."  
"That'd be nice."  
I finished my drink and tossed the can. "I need to be at the gym by eight thirty. But first I have to sleep. Dawn's coming, you know." I yawned, pointed out, "You haven't asked me about kissing Ethan."  
She rolled her eyes. "Why would I need to? It's obvious you have the hots for him."  
"No, I don't."

"Sure you don't" said Mallory, rolling her eyes. Ethan smiled. He would make Merit his.

She gave me an obviously skeptical glare, in response to which I shrugged, lacking energy to argue the point...and it would have required a heavy bit of lying and thickly laid self denial anyway.  
"Fine," she said. "I'll indulge you since you recently became the walking dead. Was he good?"  
"Unfortunately."  
"Technique? Skill? Hands?"  
"High passes in all categories. Of course, after four hundred years, the boy's gonna have some skills."  
"Quite the résumé," she agreed. "And it wouldn't matter if he was inexperienced and inept. Just being in the same room, you two melt the drapes. All that heat, its not surprising you came to blows again," she added. "Didn't land one, did you?,"  
I went silent.  
"Merit?"  
"He asked me to be his mistress."  
She stared at me, openmouthed.  
"Yeah."  
We stood quietly for a moment, until she moved to the refrigerator and grabbed a pint of ice cream from the freezer. She found a spoon, popped the ice cream top, and handed the duo to me. "No one has ever deserved this more."  
I wasn't sure that was true, but I took them both anyway and helped myself to a dose of Chunky Monkey.  
Mallory leaned against the countertop, tapped a manicured finger against it. "You know, its kind of flattering in an ass backward way. Even if he's conflicted about it, he clearly finds you attractive."  
I nodded around a spoonful of ice cream. "Yeah, but he doesn't like me. He admitted it. He's just...kind of ...accidentally attracted."  
"Were you tempted?"  
I shrugged.  
"That doesn't answer my question, Merit."  
What could o have said? That even in the midst of it, some tiny bit of me, some little secret room in my heart (or more accurately, my loins), wanted to say yes? To finish out that kiss with caresses and something more, anything more, than a lonely day beneath cool, empty sheets?  
"Not really."  
She cocked her head at me, seemed to evaluate that. "I can't tell if you're lying or not."  
"Neither can I," I admitted around another spoonful of ice cream.  
She sighed and rose, patting my back before grabbing her purse and heading toward the front door. "You give that some thought while you're hibernating. I'll see you tonight. I'll go with you to train."  
"Thanks, Mallory. Have a good day."  
"I will. You sleep good."  
Maybe unsurprisingly, I didn't.

"That was the end of the chapter." Said Malik. "I think it is almost time for bed."  
Ethan nodded and started to direct his guards to show his guests to their rooms. "Chuck and the boys can stay in the empty rooms on the second floor. Mallory and Merit can take the guest suite next to my apartment. Luc please show them to their rooms. The kitchen on the second floor is fully stocked so please help your selves. Ladies the same goes for you. I will show the ladies to their room."  
With that everyone grabbed their things and followed their respective parties and said good night to one another.  
Ethan and Merit walked side by side with Mallory following close behind.  
Recognizing that it was not a good time to talk, Ethan just kissed Merit on the cheek, much to her surprise, and said, "Good night ladies, if you need anything I am right next door." He meant it obviously as an invitation to Merit to join him in the middle of the day.

Well another chapter and still no reviews. What will it take to get one? Maybe a hint of a lime in the next chapter? The next chapter will be a bit of an interlude. Something completely new for me. Thanks for all the views and follows.  
Disclaimer: I don't own it the lovely Chloe Neill does. 


	8. Interlude

Interlude

The guest suite was beautiful, like the rest of the House. It had a European flair and Merit could only guess who decorated. It had a small sitting room with two bedrooms flanking on each side. Merit took the bedroom on the left, Mallory, the right. They both said good night to each other and headed for the rooms.  
Both girls were tired after such a long day. But they both found that they couldn't sleep. Merit was still in shock from the kiss, but it was very much welcomed. She was surprised by how handsome Ethan was. She wanted to take him up on his silent offer but didn't know if she should.

Mallory on the other hand, couldn't sleep because of two reasons: one, she was in shock to find out she had magic. She always knew she was different. She was also excited. Two, she couldn't stop thinking about Catcher. He was so handsome and manly. He was just her type. But she decided to talk to him in the morning, or possibly afternoon. She was tired enough to ignore the excitement of the day and she quickly fell asleep after thinking about Catcher.

Merit however, still couldn't sleep. She decided to check out the kitchen on the second floor. She quickly put on her slippers and padded her way done the stairs. The kitchen was at the end of the hallway. She passed many doors on the way. When she got there she realized she wasn't alone. Her grandfather was there in the kitchen, peering into the fridge.  
So she didn't startle him, she said, "Hi Grandpa."  
"Hi, baby girl. What're you still doing up?"  
"Got a lot on my mind, couldn't sleep."  
"Ah. And what are you thinking about?" He could only imagine.  
"Well," she said, "I don't know if I want to be a vampire. And I also don't know how I feel about all this...chemistry between Ethan and I."  
"Being a vampire could be a great thing. But it could also be a hard thing. Maybe if you weighed out the pros and cons, it could help you make a decision." Said Chuck.  
"Well," she said thinking, "I would get to learn to wield a sword and learn how to fight. And I can have lots of friends and family here. But I would have to watch my family and mortal friends die some day. But I could also watch their families thrive. I would never age or have children. But I could have potential enemies. But I would be able to defend myself. Ugh, this is hard."  
"Well, then lets put that aside and talk about your other thoughts about Ethan."  
"I really like him, Grandpa, but do you think it could turn into love?"  
"Only time will tell, baby girl. But I definitely think he likes you too."  
Merit smiled upon hearing that. Then she yawned.  
"I think its time for bed." She said, through another yawn. "Good night, Grandpa, I love you."  
With that she went back up to the suite but before she opened the door she looked at Ethan's door. She wanted to knock and talk to him.  
She decided to bite the bullet and she walked to his door and without second thought knocked. She waited three minutes before he answered the door with no shirt on. She immediately blushed, but couldn't help but look down at his broad chest.  
"Can I talk to you?" She asked him.  
"Sure, come in."  
She went in to his apartment and looked around the room. It was filled with mementos and trinkets. Things he collected over time.  
"Your apartment is beautiful." She said, quietly.  
"Thank you, but I don't think that is why you knocked." He said behind her. She turned around and faced him. "I want to know exactly what you want from me." She said not beating around the bush.  
He arched an eyebrow. "I want you to be mine. My vampire and possibly my lover, but I'll leave the choice up to you."  
She stalked closer, almost close enough to touch."I don't know about the vampire part quote yet, but I want to be with you too."  
With that Ethan stepped closer and leaned in and kissed her.  
Fireworks exploded in her mind. The kiss was hot. She gave in and kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Their tongues battled for dominance. She knotted her fingers in his hair and kissed him back with all the skill she knew.  
He wrapped his arms around her ass and picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down nor breaking the kiss until they needed to breathe, but he still kept his mouth on her, trailing kisses down her neck.  
"She said breathlessly, " I'm not ready for that yet, but can I stay with you?"  
He looked up and said, "Of course, you can." He kissed her again, let his hand wander down to her waistband. Hey toyed with the inch of skin that showed when her T-shirt came up. He sipped his fingers below the shirt and inched his way up, loving the feel of soft skin. He stopped when he got to her bra, looked to her for permission. She nodded but said, "Only the outside." He quickly nodded still kissing her and gently squeezed her breast. She moaned and he was rock hard in an instant. He knew that his eyes were silver.  
But she didn't seem to be afraid, only looking more turned on. She let her own hands wander and explored the vast expanse of his chest and abs. She played with his nipple drawing a moan from him as well.  
Suddenly, she yawned. "Sorry, its been a long day." "Don't be sorry, I am starting to feel the pull of the sun." With that he pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her. She was already sleeping when he said, "I have been waiting for you for a long time."  
He quickly fell asleep after that.

I know that it is short but I wanted to get this out. Thank you for the lovely review. It made my day. I will try to post the next chapter in a couple of days.  
Disclaimer: I don't own it the lovely Chloe Neill does. 


	9. Interlude part two

Interlude pt 2

Disclaimer: I don't own it, the lovely Chloe Neill does.

When Merit woke up it was close to sundown. About two hours away. She couldn't believe she slept so soundly. She looked over and just gazed at Ethan. Sleeping, he looked so peaceful. She took a moment to study his face and body. She loved his strong jaw and masculine nose. His golden skin was just beautiful. His chest and abs were amazing and perfect. She realized that she had been staring for five minutes and finally she looked away.

She then thought about what it would be like to be a vampire. She would be more powerful and strong. She would have a whole new set of rules and laws to follow. She didn't know how she felt about that. She would have to ask Ethan if she could read the Canon. She would love to know what position she would take in the House. She didn't know what she felt about her dissertation being finished. Of course, she would love to earn her doctorate degree. But she felt like there would be more to live for, if she was a vampire. She thought she could always finish school down the line. Surely, there were vampires with degrees. Maybe she could ask the others. What she needed, she realized was answers to her questions.

But first she thought she needed a shower and a change of clothes. So she got up and left the apartment to go into the guest suite. Inside, she found Mallory, who was already dressed and ready to head to the kitchen for food. When she seen Merit, she said, "Good afternoon, where have you been?"

Merit blushed, but answered honestly. "I was in Ethan's apartment. He and I talked this morning."

"Tell me, tell me." Mallory said, hoping for some juicy details.

"We talked about what we wanted. He was straight up honest. He wants me to be a vampire and his lover. But not as a consort."

"Whoa," Mallory said, "how do you feel about that?"

"Well," she answered, "since I made out with him, I want him too. But I don't know about being a vampire yet. I have a lot of questions and I want answers before I make a decision. I want to ask Ethan if I can read the Canon."

"I'm pretty sure he'll let you. Wait, you made out with him?!"

"Yeah," she said sheepishly. "He kissed me first and one thing led to another. We fell asleep together. I might have been dreaming, but I thought I heard him say, 'I have been waiting for you, for a long time."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah."

"Was he as good as the book said he was?" Mallory asked.

"Even better. One kiss and there were fireworks, Mal." Said Merit, with an amazed look on her face.

"Wow."

"I know I want to make this work. That's all I know for now." Said Merit, determinedly.

"You'll do what's best for you." Said Mallory.

"Well, I'm going to get ready," Merit said, after a pause. "I'll meet you in the kitchen." With that she went to her room and got ready to take a quick shower.

Mallory made her way to the kitchen and was met by the men in their group, minus Ethan, Luc and Lindsey.

"Hey guys, Chuck." Mallory greeted.

"Hi Mallory," they all said.

Chuck asked, "Where's Merit?"

"She's still getting ready." Mallory didn't want to spill her friend's news.

Oh, did she talk to Ethan?" Asked Chuck, with a knowing look. At Mallory's raised eyebrow, he said, "she and I talked last night."

"Oh," Mallory said, nodding. "I'll let her tell her news. I do know, however, that she has plenty of questions about being a vampire.

"So she is giving it some serious thought?" Asked Catcher.

"Yes," Mal answered, "she really is."

Just then Merit entered the kitchen and pulled the fridge open and peered in. As she was doing that she greeted the Ombud crew. "Good afternoon, everyone." She pulled out a small container of orange juice, took a sip. She looked around and realized she was being stared at. "What?"

"Do you have some news to share, baby girl?" Chuck asked.

"Its not just my news to tell, so I am going to wait before I tell it." She answered.

She peered in the cabinets and found a box of chocolate cereal. She grabbed it and the milk and then searched for a bowl and spoon. After making up her cereal she realized that everyone was smiling. Again she asked, "What?"

She got various "nothings."

"So we hear you have questions about vampirism?" Asked Catcher.

"Yeah, but don't you and Mallory have things to talk about?"

"We do, but we can maybe answer a few questions for you."

"Well," she said, "most of the questions revolve around finishing my doctorate. And if other vamps have degrees."

"Well, I know for a fact, that Margot, the head chef here, got her culinary degree after she became a vampire."

Just then they were interrupted by Ethan, who was freshly showered and wearing a suit. He looked at Merit and smiled. He walked over and kissed her, drawing gasps from the peanut gallery. "Good afternoon, Merit."

Merit was blushing, but looked to the others in the room and said, "Our news is that we are together." She looked at Ethan and said, "Good afternoon, we were just trying to come up with answers to some of my questions about being a vampire."

"Maybe, then," Ethan said, "you should ask a vampire or I can just have you read the Canon. It should answer most of your questions."

"I just wanted to know about school and I was going to ask to read the Canon." Merit said, smiling at him.

"You can certainly read it but if you want to finish school as a vampire, you would have to wait for the laws to be passed. There are plenty of vampires with degrees though. When you're immortal, you have a lot of free time. Luc has several in technical studies."

Luc and Lindsey walked in just then. They went to the fridge and pulled bottles of blood and nuked them in the microwave. Luc handed one to Ethan, who thanked him. They downed the blood in seconds. The mortals watched with interest.

Luc noticed and said "want to try it?" Some turned pale and shook their heads, while Merit looked intrigued, but she shook her head no.

"We were just talking about schooling as a vampire." Said Ethan.

Oh yeah, I have several in technology and I think Lindsey has a few in criminology. " said Luc. Lindsey nodded.

"If everyone is ready, we can head to the study and maybe finish the book." Said Ethan. Everyone started getting up, making their way to the door. A few minutes later, the entered the study and got situated, except Ethan and Merit, chose to sit on the couch next to each other. They were holding hands. Upon noticing this Lindsey asked, "Got something to tell us, Liege?"

"Merit and I have chosen to be together."

Lindsey just smiled and Luc said, "Good for you two.

"Who wants to read next?" Asked Mallory.

"I'll read the next one." Said Catcher. He was interested in reading about his session with Merit. And learning more about Mallory, of course.

I realized that I left the last chapter kind of unfinished, so I added a part two. Let me know what you think. As always thanks for the few reviews and favorites.


	10. Chapter 8

If At First You Don't Succeed, Fall Down, Down Again.

Disclaimer: i don't own it, the lovely Chloe Neill does.

Catcher immediately started reading, after turning to the right page.

It was raining when I woke the next evening, the fourth day of my new life, tucked beneath the ancient quilt that covered my bed. I stretched and rose and walked to the window, flipping back the black leather curtain that kept sun light off my body while I slept. The evening was gray, the window cold against the flat of my palm. Heavy drops of spring rain patted against the glass. It was 7:30ish and the evening stretched before me. I had only one thing planned - training with Catcher, as arranged the night before.

I made myself stop obsessing about the kiss. After all I should have been thrilled to death that I hadn't been weak enough to say yes to Ethan's offer. I was still Merit, still Mallory's friend and still my grandfather's granddaughter. So when I rose, I put it behind me and focus on the night ahead.

I wasn't sure of the appropriate dress code for my first night of training as Cadogan House Initiate, especially given the weather, so I opted for black yoga capris, a T-shirt, running shoes, and a fleece jacket to ward off the chill. When we met in the living room, Mallory was out of her business suit and tucked into jeans and a T-shirt. He linked her arm in mine and we stepped onto the stoop, nodding to the guards at the door before darting to the garage.

Mallory flipped open the garage door and we walked inside. "You ready for your big vampire adventure?"

"You ready to find out who you are?" I countered.

"Honestly, I'm not yet sure if knowing is better than not."

Catcher looked at Mallory and said, "Its always good to know who you are. Besides the magic can build up and possibly explode out of you."

Mallory looked shocked as did Merit. Merit looked at Mallory and agreed with Catcher saying,"We don't want that to happen."

Chuck said, "No, we do not."

I made a sound of agreement, unlocked the door and slid inside. Mallory joined me after I reached over to pop the lock. The car started on the first try - not always a guarantee with a car nearly older than I was - and I backed her carefully out of the garage and onto the street.

"Can you believe we're wrapped up in this?" she asked. " Not even a month ago, no one knew vampires existed. Now we're in the middle of it, as deep as you can get. And this Catcher. He is what?"

"He said he was a fourth grade sorcerer until he was kicked out of the Order. I don't know what that -"

"It's the governing body of sorcerers," Mallory interjected.

I slid her a quick glance. "And you know that because?"

" I've done some homework. I made some calls."

"I see. And a fourth grade sorcerer? That would be what, exactly?"

"Top of the line."

Not really surprising given the fireworks display. A little scary, but not surprising. "Gotcha."

Catcher was smiling as he read that. Ethan seen it and said, "No need to gloat, Catcher."

"Let me have my moment, old man." Catcher replied back.

When we reached the warehouse district, we found parking in front of the brick building bearing the address Catcher had provided. The building was for squat stories tall and ringed at the top with equally spaced square windows, like a coronet of glass. A substantial red door sat in the middle of this facade. We dodged raindrops to reach it, then pushed it open, revealing an impressive atrium that stretched the full height of the building. The room itself was shaped like an inverted T, with a long hallway punched through the middle. An equally demilune desk stood in the juncture.

Having gotten no instructions beyond the time and address I gave Mallory shrug, and we ventured toward the hallway. Doors marked the walls, but there was no sign of our sorcerer or a gym. Rather than testing each door, which felt a little to Alice in Wonderland, we decided to wait and hope that someone would eventually come looking for us. We debated whether they'd come from the right on the left.

"Left side?" I offered.

Mallory shook her head. "Right. Loser buys dinner."

"Done," I agreed, seconds too early. Mallory nailed it - a door opened on the right, and Jeff's head popped out of the doorway. He grinned at me, waved and widened his eyes when he saw Mallory.

"You brought magic," he said, his voice a little dreamy, and beckoned us in. Mallory grumbled a few choice words about "magic" but we followed obediently.

"Can all sups recognize when someone has magic?" Asked Mallory, looking at Ethan and Catcher.

Catcher answered, "Yes, most can. Only those that don't know what they are don't."

"Okay, I get it. You want me to train."

"I want to be the one who trains you." Said Catcher. He also wanted to get to know her, but he kept that to himself.

The room was enormous. The walls were concrete, the floor dominated by blue gymnastics mats. A gauntlet of punching and speed bags hung in one corner. The contrast between this room - sterile, equipped for precision training - and the Cadogan sparring room - ceremonial, equipped for flashy moves - was easily apparent. This place lacked the gravitas, but it also lacked the ego. There, you showed off. Here you worked out. You prepared. The music, though, was weirdly mellow - John Lee Hooker's "You Talk Too Much" flowed through the space.

"I'm Jeff," he said, sticking out a hand toward Mallory. She shook it.

"Mallory Carmichael."

"I'm a shifter," he said. "And you're magic.

"That's what I hear," she flatly said.

"Have you joined the Order yet?"

Mallory shook her head.

Jeff nodded. "Talk to Catcher. But don't let him blind you to the benefits of being unionized."

As if on cue, a door on the far side of the room opened with a metallic scrape. Catcher emerged, stalking toward us in bare feet, jeans, and a T-shirt that read 'Real Men Use Keys'. It was a good look for him - sexy, rough, a little dangerous. It was the look of a man who'd just crawled out of bed, leaving a very satisfied woman beneath the sheets.

"Why, thank you, Merit. You do wonders for my ego." Said Catcher smiling. He was looking toward Mallory after he read that paragraph. Mallory was blushing a little bit, thinking about Catcher in a bed, naked.

Merit, who noticed Mallory's blush just smiled back and said "Happy to help."

Ethan looked at Merit and said, "Should I be worried about you looking at other men?"

"No," she said. "I only have eyes for you." Merit squeezed his hand.

I watched his eyes survey the room, saw his gaze move from Jeff, to me, to Mallory. And that was when I saw the blink, the tiny hitch in his composure when he took in the petite frame, the blue hair, the gorgeous face. I turned, saw the same awestruck expression on her face, and watched them stare at each other. The force of the attraction seemed to warm the air. I grinned.

"You're late," Catcher said when he reached us, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jeff, the sweetheart, defended my honor. "She was here on time. I found'em standing in the hallway, staring at the architecture."

"It's a great building." I said.

"Thanks," Catcher replied, his gaze on Mallory. "I don't have time to deal with you tonight." I guessed introductions were unnecessary.

Mallory huffed. "I don't recall asking you for help."

The air seemed to prickle around us, drawing goosebumps along my arms. Jeff took a couple of steps backward. Since he undoubtedly knew more than I did, I followed suit.

"You don't have to ask," Catcher said. "You're practically drenched in power, and you obviously have no clue what to do with it."

Make rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"You are gonna be stubborn, aren't you?" Asked Catcher, smiling at Mallory.

Mallory blushed red, but said, "No, I won't be stubborn."

Catcher was still smiling, but continued reading.

"I know you're a fourth grade," Catcher said, gazing at her through half lidded eyes. "And I know what that means. I know you put in a call. But Merit doesn't have magic, and I need to make sure, first and foremost, that she can handle what's coming. So not now, okay?"

Mal's eyes flared, blazed. But after a moment, she nodded.

Catcher inclined his head, then looked me over. He pinched the sleeve of my fleece jacket. "This won't work. You're wearing too many clothes. You need to watch your body move, learn how your muscles work." He crooked a thumb toward the door in the back of the room. "Head back. There're clothes in the locker room. And lose the shoes."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Do you want a speech too?"

I didn't, but I was a little sick of being bossed around by supernatural boys with ego problems, so I satisfied myself by muttering a few choice curses on my way back.

The locker room was bright, empty, and clean, but like all locker rooms, it carried the ubiquitous scent of sweat and cleaning products. There were two pieces of black fabric on a bench. I picked them up.

Catcher had been serious about watching my muscles work. The clothes were barely scraps - an eight inch band of spandex to cover my breasts and a pair of spandex shorts that would just reach the tops of my thighs. It looked like a beach volleyball uniform, although I think even Gabrielle Reese got more clothing than this.

"I would like to see this outfit." Said Ethan, smiling. He knew that would make Merit blush. He loved her blush.

As predicted, Merit turned bright red and said, "Not in front of Grandpa." But she was smiling slightly.

Chuck just sighed. He didn't know if he could hear about his granddaughter's love life.

"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered, but stripped and pill on the workout gear. They fit well, at least the little skin they covered. I folded and piled my clothes, placed my shoes on top, then pulled my hair into a ponytail. A quick survey in the mirror above the slate of sinks revealed a lot of pale vampy skin, but the effect wasn't bad, actually. I'd always been lean, but my muscles seemed more defined now, vampire genetics doing more for my than miles on a treadmill. I blew the bangs out of my face, wished myself luck, and walked back into the training room.

For my trouble, I got catcalls from Mallory and Jeff, who grinned at each other in delight. I rolled my eyes, but curtsied to both of them, then walked to where Catcher stood, arms folded across his chest, a glower on his face, in the middle of the mats.

"Push ups," he said, pointing at the floor. "Start now."

As commanded, I went to the floor, extended my arms and legs, and started lifting my body. The move was nearly effortless; while I certainly couldn't do push ups indefinitely, I had noticeably more upper body strength. I felt muscles clench and flex as I moved, and reveled in the sensation of blood flowing faster than before. I saw feet come into view, then circle me.

Catcher called Jeff's name, and the music changed - it became harder, louder, more rhythmic.

"The first step," Catcher said above me, "is evaluation. The vampire's powers are based in the physical - strength, speed, agility. The ability to jump higher, to move faster, than prey. Enhanced smell, sight, hearing, - although those might require a little maturing before they kick in. And most important, the ability to heal wounds, to repair damage, which ensures that the body stays in top form." Thus, the unmarred skin on my neck.

"That's not all of it. There's also the psychological and strategic evaluations." Said Luc, who looked at Catcher.

Catcher nodded.

As I steadily lifted and lowered my body, Catcher crouched before me, a finger under my chin pausing me, arms extended, in the middle of a push up. He searched my eyes, but called Jeff's name. "Jeff?"

"She just finished push up one hundred thirty two."

Merit looked shocked. "What?"

"Apparently you'll be a very strong phys." Said Ethan. He was thinking more and more that she would make a great Sentinel.

Catcher nodded. "You're stronger than most." Hands on his knees, he rose again. "Sit ups. Begin."

I swiveled my body into position, started a course of sit ups. Those were followed by lunges, squats, and a set of yoga positions Catcher said were intended to test my flexibility and agility. They were all relatively easy, my body fitting into positions that - even removed from serious dance level fitness - should have been impossible. But I did King Dancer and Warrior poses, Wheel poses and Forearm Stands as effortlessly as if I'd been simply standing there. My muscles worked to maintain the positions, but the sensation was wonderful - like a full body stretch after a long nap.

"So far, your easily a Very Strong Phys," he commented.

I was in a headstand when he said it, and I lowered my feet to the floor and stood. "Meaning what?" I asked, straightening my ponytail.

"Meaning, just in terms of your patent physical strength, you're in the highest echelon. Vamps are rated on a three prong basis. Phys - physical strength, stamina, skills. Psych - psychic and mental abilities. Strat - strategic and ally considerations. Who your friends are," he explained. "And within those categories, there are levels. Very strong at the top, very weak at the bottom, a range in between."

I frowned at him. "Give me a comparator. What are humans?"

"In strat and psych, 'very weak' by vampire standards. In physical strength, they might vary from weak to very weak. Many vamps aren't much stronger than humans. Thy need blood, and they have that nasty sunlight allergy problem, but their musculature remains essentially unchanged. Some will get powers, but even then its later on. It's only been what four days since your change? Of course, even the vamps who don't get appreciably stronger get a boost metaphysically - the ability to glamour humans, mental communication, once your Master initiates the link."

"So some vamps don't get the ability to glamour. But I might be able to talk to Ethan telepathically." Said Merit, adding to the list of pros and cons.

"Since apparently, you'll be a Very Strong Phys, you might not be able to glamour." Said Lindsey.

I put my hands on my hips. "Mental communication? You mean like telepathy?"

"I mean telepathy," he confirmed. "Ethan will call you, initiate the link. You'll only be able to communicate with him - as your Master - but its a handy skill to have."

I glanced at Mallory, thinking of her similar words before I took the floor with Ethan at Cadogan House. She nodded at me.

"You'll have Phys," Catcher continued. "Psychic, maybe. Those probably haven't come online yet. They may not until you and Ethan connect." Catcher moved a step closer and gazed into my eyes, his brow furrowed, like he was peering through my pupils. "You'll have something," he quietly said. Then his eyes focused again, and he stepped backward. "And those powers will move you up. You'll be a Master vampire, Merit. You'll have your own House one day."

"You really think that I could be a Master?" Merit asked, wide eyed. She didn't know if that was a pro or a con.

"It is quite possible." Ethan answered. "But not for a while."

"You're serious?"

He shrugged casually, like the possibility that I was going to one of the most powerful vampires in the world was no big deal. "It's up to you, of course. You could stay a Novitiate, stay under Ethan's wing."

"You do know how to motivate a girl."

He chuckled. "Why don't you take five, and then we'll start you on the moves? There's a water fountain in the hallway."

I walked toward Mallory, who jumped up, grabbed me by the elbow, and pulled me out into the empty hall. I found the water fountain and latched on, my body suddenly aching for water. That was when she started yelling.

"You said 'sorcerer'! Sorcerer!" She pointed back into the training room. "That was not a sorcerer."

"Then what am I?" Asked Catcher. "Not all of us look like Merlin and Dumbledore."

Mallory blushed again.

I guessed meeting Catcher did have an effect on her. I lifted my head and wiped water from my chin, then peered back into the room, where Catcher was sparring with a surprisingly sprightly Jeff.

"Uh yeah, that was. Is. And believe me - I know. I was almost a victim of these little fingertip blast things he can do."

"But he's young! What is he, twenty eight?"

"He's twenty nine. And what did you think he was going to look like?"

She shrugged. "You know - old. Grizzled. Long white beard. Scruffy robes. Lovable. Smart, but a little absentminded professorish."

I bit back a grin. " I said 'sorcerer,' not 'Dumbledore.' So he's hot." I shrugged. "It could be worse. He could be a pretentious centuries old vampire who's decided you're his latest project."

Mallory paused, then patted me on the arm. "You win. That's worse."

"Uh, yeah," I agreed, and led her back into the training room.

"I'm not really that pretentious, am I?" Asked Ethan, to his vampires. Malik answered, "Sometimes, when you are stressed out it can come off as pretentious. But you're good."

Merit squeezed his hand which she still held. He squeezed back and smiled.

We worked for two more hours. He positioned me in front of a bank of mirrors along one wall and began teaching me how to move, how to defend myself. We spent the first hour - well, I spent the first hour - learning how to fall down.

Seriously.

Anticipating that I might be the object of an overhead toss or a clumsily executed jump, Catcher taught me how not to injure myself when I hit the ground - how to roll, to balance my weight, to use the momentum to push into a different move. The second hour we worked on the basics - kicks, punches, blocks, hand attacks. The building blocks that he'd eventually combined into the katas, the combination sets that defined vampire fighting. The patterns had their origins in various Asian martial arts forms - Judo, Iaido, Kendo, and Kenjutsu, European vampires having learned the systems from a nomadic swordsman. But Catcher explained the moves had evolved into a unique form of fighting because as he put it, " Vampires and gravity have a special relationship." Vamps could jump higher and keep their bodies in the air for longer than humans, so vampire moves were more complicated then the origional humans katas. Showiness, Catcher said, was encouraged.

It wasn't until the end of the second hour, after he begun to teach me defensive sword fighting poses, that Catcher even let me see a sword. The sheathed blade had been wrapped in slinky indigo silk, and he unfolded it with careful concentration. It was a katana, much like the belt bound blades worn by the guards outside Cadogan. It was sheathed in a black lacquer scabbard and had a long handle wrapped in black cords. He unsheathed it with a whistle of steel, the long, gently curved blade catching the glow of the overhead fluorescent lights.

As I admired the sword, tracing a finger in the air an inch above the blade - loath to sully the surface - Mallory asked, " Why swords? I mean, if vamps can be killed, why not just use guns? It's faster, certainly easier than carrying around a three foot long sword. Those things aren't exactly inconspicuous."

"Vamps are honorable. Guns are the easy way out." Said Jeff.

"Honor," Catcher said, gripping the sword just below the hilt and rotating it in his hand in a figure eight pattern. He glanced over at me. "You're immortal, meaning you'll live forever if you aren't killed. But if someone decides its your time to go, they have three options. Sunlight is, of course, the easy way." He gripped the sword in both hands, the blade pointing to the ground, and thrust it down. "Two - pierce the heart with a stake. Destroy the heart and you destroy the vampire. Aspen is the traditional wood."

"Why aspen?" I asked.

Mallory lifted a finger. "There's a theory chemicals in the fibers prevent the heart from regenerating."

"And you know this because..."

"Oh, please," she said, waving me off with a hand. "You know I read a lot."

Catcher swung the sword above his head, then sliced the blade through the air, the steel whistling as it fell. Three - destroy the body. Remove the head, remove the limbs, the body dies. Slicing and dicing will weaken the body, as will guns. But guns are too easy. Bullets too easy. If you want to take out an immortal, you do it carefully, precisely, and after battle. You take you out an immortal because you fought them, use the old traditions, earned the right." Pommel up, he gripped the sword and sliced it beside his body, a move that would have gutted an enemy behind him. Then he looked up at me. "Honor among thieves," he concluded, brows lifted, and I wondered, not for the first time, how Catcher knew so much about vampires, and what put the intent gleam into his eyes.

"How do you know so much about vamps?" Asked Merit, looking at Catcher.

"Weapons are what I do," Replied Catcher.

He glanced back at Mallory. "That's why they don't use guns."

"How do you know all this?" She asked.

Catcher shrugged matter of factly. "Weapons are what I do."

"That's how he works his mojo," Jeff said.

"It's the second Key," I added, enjoying the surprised expression on Catcher's face. "I a! Capable of learning."

"Color me surprised," he snarked, then moved to his knees, resheathed the blade, and placed the sword in front of him on the floor. Solemnly, he bowed to it, then rewrapped it in the silk. "Next time, I'll let you hold her."

"Next time? What about your job? My grandfather?"

"Chuck doesn't mind that I'm ensuring your safety." When the scabbard was covered again, he rose, cradling it in his arms and surveyed us all. "Who wants eggs?"

"That's the end of the Chapter. Huh, I thought it would be longer. Who wants to read next.?" Asked Catcher to the group.

Merit raised her hand, and the book was passed to her. She immediately flipped to the page and read on.

Sorry this took so long. I was just not feeling this chapter. It is a relatively short one though, maybe that's why.

As always I appreciate your reviews and follows and favorites. Please send me more, it might get me out of my slump.


	11. Chapter 9

What's In A Name

Disclaimer: I don't own it, the lovely Chloe Neill does.

Merit flipped to the page and started reading.

"Eggs," it turned out, meant a deliciously greasy breakfast. After I showered and changed back into my street clothes, Mallory and I followed Catcher and Jeff to a tiny aluminum diner situated in the shadow of the El in a commercial neighborhood that had seen better days. An electric blue neon sign blinked "Molly's" in one of the round windows.

Once inside, we piled into a booth to surveyed the breakfast only menu. After a gingham clad waitress took our order - eggs, sausage, and toast all around - we lapsed into a companionable silence, marred only by the intense stares that Mallory and Catcher couldn't seem to help but exchange.

Mallory and Catcher looked at each other. They stared so long Ethan cleared his throat to get their attention. Mallory blushed, but Catcher looked smug.

When the plates arrived minutes later, laden with greasy breakfast necessities, I tore into the sausage. I sucked down three links immediately and made doe eyes at Mallory, who handed me a fourth.

Merit stopped reading and looked at Ethan and asked, "Does being a vampire make you eat a lot?"

"Depends on the vampire. I think very physical vampires tend to eat a lot, but we have a very high metabolism, so we don't gain anything."

"Oh, okay." Merit said and she continued reading.

Catcher chuckled. "You're craving protein."

"Like a shifter," Jeff put in, grinning wolfishly. And that made me wonder something.

I nibbled on the edge of my toast. "Jeff, what kind of animal do you change into?"

"I knew that was coming." Said Luc, chuckling.

"So did I." Said Merit blushing. "How bad of a faux pas is it to ask that?"

Jeff blushed but answered, "Its the equivalent of asking a guy to pull out a ruler and whip it out."

Merit just turned redder and read on.

He and Catcher exchanged a glance, wary enough that I guessed that I'd made another supernatural faux pas. I mentally reiterated my interest in getting a guide book. Hell - writing one, if that's what it came down to.

"The Canon is your guidebook." Said Lindsey, giggling.

"I realize that, but my book self is a little bit slow it seems." Merit replied with a frown.

Ethan squeezed her hand and said, "if you decide to change, you will be more in the know." Merit just nodded but smiled when he squeezed her hand again. Ethan started to rub circles with his thumb onto her hand. They both found it to be very calming.

"Did I ask the wrong question again?" I asked, taking another bite, social clumsiness clearly not affecting my appetite.

"Asking about someone's animal is the shifter equivalent of pulling a ruler and asking a guy to whip it out." Catcher said.

And down went toast into my trachea. I choked, had to swallow half my glass of OJ to get my breath back. "I'm okay," I said, waving Mallory off. "I'm fine." I gave Jeff a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

He beamed at me. "Oh, I'm not offended. I could show you. I think you'd be pretty pleased."

I held up a hand. "No."

Jeff shrugged and chewed a mouthful of eggs, apparently unruffled.

"I really would like to know though, one day." Said Merit looking up at Jeff. He just smiled and nodded.

"Some day soon."

Catcher took a sip of his coffee, than dunked a corner of toast in the remnant of gooey egg yolk on his plate. "There's an easy way for you to remedy your ignorance, you know."

"What's that?" I asked him, pushing back my plate. I'd finished off five links of sausage - three of my own, two pilfered - three eggs and four triangles of toast, and I'd just taken the edge off the hunger. But two thousand calories or so of grease, carbs, and protein was my limit at one sitting. I'd catch a snack later, and wondered how late Giordano's was open. Or how late Superdawg stayed open. A hotdog and fries - how good did that sound?

"I just polished off all that, and I am still thinking about eating? " said Merit, amazed.

"It's not a bad thing." Said Ethan, looking at her.

"No, not bad. Just shocking."

"Read the Canon," Catcher answered, interrupting my meat reverie. "It's your best source for information on sups, including all the shit you're already supposed to know about vampires. There's a reason they give those out, you know."

I drummed my fingers on the table - well on my mental way through a Hackneyburger with bleu cheese - and made a face. "Yeah, well, I've been busy - getting death threats, kicking my Master's ass, getting training."

"You finally have an excuse to buy that BlackBerry," Mallory pointed out, sipping at her diamond patterned plastic tumbler of orange juice. I scowled at her, then batted my eyelashes at Catcher. "So, what's the story with Mallory?"

Mallory growled. Catcher ignored her. "Now that she's been identified, the Order will contact her. She'll get her training, be assigned a mentor - not me," he clarified, giving her a look, "and will be asked to swear never to use her magic for the forces of evil" - he crossed a hand over his heart - "but only for good."

"Is that what you did?" I asked him. "Used magic for evil instead of good?"

"Nope." Catcher said, popping the p. "I disobeyed orders to stay out of Chicago."

"What's wrong with Chicago?" Asked Mallory, confused.

"It's a sup town, but not for sorcerers or even shifters. This is considered a vampire city." Said Jeff.

"So just because of the vampires in the city you were kicked out of the Order?" Clarified Merit.

"Among other things. But that is the gist of it." Said Catcher.

"That's messed up. So its only you and Mallory for the total of sorcerers in the city?"

"Yep, we are the only ones."

Without anymore questions, Merit read on.

"Nope," was all he said, tossing his napkin onto his plate.

"Why now?" Mallory asked. "If I'm so powerful, why the interest only now? Why wasn't I identified before?"

"Puberty," Catcher said, relaxing back into the booth. "You've just come into your powers."

I snorted out a laugh. "And you thought the weird body hair and pimples were the end of it."

Mallory elbowed me in the gut. "What powers? It's not like I'm out there waving a magic wand or something."

Catcher laughed. "You don't need a wand or spells. You use your body to pull the magic though the strength of will."

"A sorcerer's power doesn't work like that. We're not spell casters - no charms, no recipes, no cauldrons. We don't have to invoke it or ask for it. We don't draw it through a wand or the combination of words and ingredients. We pull it through our bodies, merely by the strength of our own will." Catcher crooked a thumb at me. "She's a predator, a genetically altered human, tempered by magic. Her magic is accidental; vamps notice it more than humans, have a greater awareness of it than humans, but can't control it. We are vessels of magic. We keep it. Channel it. Protect it."

At Mallory's blank expression, Catcher said, " Look, have you recently decided that you wanted something, and then got it? Something unexpected?"

Mallory frowned and nibbled on the end of a sausage link, a move I noticed was watched with avidity by Jeff.

"Not that I can think of." She looked at me. "Something I wanted and got."

Mallory gasped. "My job."

That was when it hit me. "Your job," I answered. "You told Alec you wanted the job - next day, you had it."

Mallory paled, and turned to Catcher. "Is that right?" There was sadness in her expression, probably dismay at the possibility that she hadn't gotten the job at McGettrick because of her qualifications or creativity, but because she'd made it happen, the result of some supernatural force she could flick on like a light switch.

"Maybe," Catcher said. "What else?"

We frowned, considered. "Helen," Mallory said. "I wanted her out of the House - virulently. I opened the door, told her to get out, and poof, she's on the stoop." She gazed at Catcher. "I thought if you revoked a vampire's invitation they got sucked out?"

Catcher shook his head, his expression radiating quiet concern. They'd be good for each other, I decided. Her energy, expressiveness, impulsiveness, creativity, matched against his smart ass solidity.

"Thanks for your support, Merit." Said Mallory. She and Catcher looked at each other. When Catcher nodded Mallory continued. "When everyone was still sleeping, Catcher and I were up and talking about everything. We decided to see where our relationship goes."

It was then that Merit realized that Mallory and Catcher were now holding hands on the opposite couch.

Merit jumped up and hugged her friend. "I'm happy for you."

When the girls were seated again, Merit started reading again.

"They leave by rule, by paradigm. Not by magic. That was your doing."

Mallory nodded and let the sausage fall back to her plate.

"You can try it, if you want. Right now, while I'm here." Catcher's voice was soft, thoughtful. Mallory's gaze on the table, she wet her lips. Finally, after a long silence, she looked up.

"What do I do?"

Catcher nodded. "Let's go," he said, reaching back into his jeans pocket. He pulled out a beaten black leather wallet, then slipped cash from the centerfold and laid it on the table. After he leaned forward to push the wallet back in, he rose from the booth and held his hand out to Mallory. She paused, looked at it, but let him help her up and out. They headed for the door.

Jeff swallowed the remaining inch of his orange juice, then put the empty tumbler back on the table, and we both followed.

Outside, the rain finally stopped. Catcher led Mallory, her hand still in his, around the restaurant. Jeff and I exchanged a glance, but hurried to keep up.

Catcher walked a block or so until he and Mallory stood directly beneath the El, then positioned her body so they stood facing each other. Jeff stopped five yards from them and put a hand on my arm to stop me, too.

"Close enough," he whispered. "Give them room."

"Give me your hands," I heard Catcher tell her, "and keep your eyes on me."

She hesitated, but held out her hands, palms up.

"You're a channel," he said. "A conduit for the energy, the power." He held out his own hands, palms down, over hers, a little space between them.

For a second, there was nothing but the sounds of the city. Traffic. Conversation down the street. The thud of a hip hop bass line. The drip of water from the tracks above us.

"Wait for it," Jeff whispered. "Watch their hands."

It happened simultaneously, the roar of the train over head and the glow that began to gather in the space between their outstretched fingers.

Mallory's eyes widened; then Catcher mouthed something and her eyes lifted. They gazed at each other, Catcher telling her things I couldn't hear over the grate and rumble of the El.

The glow built, grew into a sphere, a golden orb of light between them. The train completed its pass, the sudden silence a vacuum of sound.

"I can feel it," Mallory said, gaze dropping to her hands and the light between them.

"What do you feel?" Catcher asked.

She looked up at him, their faces illuminated by the glow.

Chemistry, I thought, my lips tilting into a smile at the mix of joy and surprise on her face.

"Magic," Jeff whispered beside me.

"Everything," Mallory answered.

"Close your eyes," Catcher told her. "Breathe it in."

She gave a hesitant nod. Her lids fell, and then she smiled. The orb grew, engulfed their hands, arms torsos until it was a yellow bubble of light encasing them both. The air electrified, the breeze of magic fluttering my bangs and Jeff's floppy hair.

And then with a pop, it was gone, a plane of yellow mist dissipating into the air around them.

"I want to try that." Said Mallory amazed.

"Maybe when the vamps go to sleep in the morning." Catcher replied. Mallory nodded.

"And why can't we see it now?" Asked Ethan, eyebrow arched.

"Need to know. And you don't need to know." Catcher told him.

Mallory and Catcher, arms still outstretched, stared at each other.

He lifted his gaze. "Not bad at all."

"As if you've had better, Bell.

I grinned. That was my girl, magic funnel or not. She'd be okay, I decided.

They dropped their arms and rejoined us.

"So, what the hell was that, exactly?"

Catcher looked my way. "Need to know basis, vamp. And you do not need to know right now."

The magic demonstration concluded, we headed back to the block on which we'd left our cars, my chunky Volvo, Catcher's hipster sedan, and Jeff's old hatchback.

"Plans?" Catcher asked.

Jeff grinned. "It's a Friday night, I'm off work early, and I'm gonna chat with this cute kid from Buffalo. She's blond and curvy in all the right places, so I need to get home and get online." He elbowed Catcher. "Right, C.B.?"

I told you not to call me that."

"It's, you know, so we have a thing, the two of us. You know."

Catcher gazed at Jeff. "I don't know, Jeff. I really, really don't." But when Jeff began to explain, Catcher held up a hand. "Nor am I interested." He looked at Mallory and me. "Plans?"

We shook our heads.

"There's a club in River North that looks cool." Catcher pulled a flyer from his pocket. It was similar to the one that had been left beneath my wipers when my car was parked outside Cadogan, advertising Red. "It's not too far from the gym."

I pointed at it. "I got one of those too. They must be papering the city."

Catcher shrugged, refolded the paper, and stuffed it back into his pocket. "Anyone wanna dance?"

"Oh, Jesus," Mallory muttered.

"I am not that bad." Said Merit to Mallory.

At her raised eyebrow, she shrugged and said, "So I love to dance, sue me."

"I'd love to take you dancing." Said Ethan, with a smile to Merit. Merit smiled and nodded at him.

"Dance?" I asked. "I could dance. I need to change, but I can dance." I could always dance. My hips didn't lie.

Mallory tucked her tongue into her cheek, then gave Catcher a look of mock irritation. "Nice going, Gandalf. You'll rile her up, and I will never get her tucked in. You wanna give her candy and caffeine while your at it?"

Catcher smiled at her, and even though the smile wasn't for me, it was hot enough to curl my toes. "Sorcerer, not wizard. Yes?"

After a beat, she nodded, a flush high on her cheeks.

I'd have nodded too, if I was her. Probably even thrown in an eyelash batting for good measure.

"I'll let you two deal with him," Jeff said, and unlocked the doors of his hatchback. "Have fun dancing. And if you get bored later" - he winged up his eyebrows - "you give me a call." He winked, then climbed into the car and drove away.

"One of these days, I'm gonna kiss him just for the principle of the thing," I told Mallory as we walked toward the Volvo.

"You should have done it just then. You'd have made his weekend."

"You girls should know, I have serious game." Said Jeff, his cheeks red, but his chest was puffed up.

The girls smiled and nodded.

I walked around and unlocked the door. "But his cute blonde would have missed out. Can't have that."

Mallory nodded solemnly. "True. You're so munificent."

I slid into the car, unlocked the passenger door, and waited while Mallory and Catcher argued over something. Issue apparently decided, Mallory slid inside, blushing furiously. I nearly ask what they argued about, but the subconscious way she touched her fingers to her lips answered the question. I stifled a laugh, pulled the car out of the parking lot, and headed home.

Page break ~•~•~

Catcher, who followed us to Wicker Park, camped on the couch in front of the television while Mallory and I switched outfits. We both came downstairs in trendy jeans and heels and cute club worthy tops. Mine was black with tiny white dots and cap sleeves - a bargain vintage find. Mallory wore a sleeveless, high-collared top with a long tie at the neck that glinted silver in the light.

"Great shirt," she told me, fingering a sleeve as we strode down the stairs. "It's like you've blossomed style overnight."

I was taking serious hits on my fashion choices this week, probably not surprising for a girl whose dressing decision was usually between colors of layered T-shirts. I wasn't a shopper, much to my mother's ( and Mallory's...and Ethan's) chagrin.

But I thanked Mallory anyway and had the satisfaction of watching her flick fingers self consciously through her shoulder length hair as we neared the living room.

"I'm sure he'll like your hair," I poked, then grabbed keys and stuffed my wallet into a small black clutch purse. Mallory stuck out her tongue. We gathered up Catcher - who guiltily flipped off a Lifetime movie - and headed out.

All the girls looked at each other and broke out in giggles.

"You like Lifetime?" Asked Mallory, when she caught her breath.

Catcher blushed but nodded. "They have quality movies that are all based on fact. What's not to like?" He asked.

Red was located in a stand-alone building, a three story brick structure that looked, architecturally like it might house a design studio. The facade was dominated by three rows of high, arched windows, each topped with an intricately carved relief. We parked the car on a side street and approached the door, bass thumping through the walls. We were headed for the back of the short waiting line but the guard at the door - bald, clad in a black T-shirt and fatigues, and wearing a headset - waved a clipboard at us.

"We aren't on the list," Catcher told him.

"Names?" He asked anyway, his voice flat and deep.

"Catcher Bell, Mallory Carmichael, and Merit," Catcher told him. Face bunched, the bouncer flipped through the sheath of paper clipped to his board. But then his gaze rose, and he stared blankly ahead and nodded as, I imagine, he listened to someone on the other end of the headset. Then he stepped back from the door and waved us inside.

Weird, but who were we to argue with VIP service?

"I smell something fishy, Liege." Said Luc, who had been quiet. In fact, besides Ethan, all the vamps have been quiet.

"I do too," said Ethan.

"Let's just read on and find out what's going to happen." Said Chuck.

We entered to the rhythmic thump of a slow bass beat that carried enough power to vibrate my core. But while the music was raucously loud, the decor was chic. Elegant. Drinks were served from an enormous mirror backed bar that was tucked against the building's front wall, while the side walls were lined in curtain edged mirrors and red leather booths, tables in front of them. Tiny lamps lit the tables and reflected against the mirrors, giving the club the look of a European coffee house. A wrought iron spiral staircase was positioned near the bar, and a small but completely filled dance floor dominated the back of the room. the clientele was as classy as the decor- chicly dressed couples in the booths along the wall, chatting over martinis and cosmopolitans. They were all oddly attractive - lots of Louis Vuitton bags and Manolo Blahnik shoes, carefully coiffed hair and perfectly tailored clothes.

Some, I knew, were vampires. I'm not sure how I knew that - although the fact that they were all, to a one, weirdly attractive was a sure tip-off. They just had a different vibe, a different sense about them. And here they were, sipping $10 drinks, flirting, and swaying to the music just like people.

"That's exactly Celina Desaulniers. It definitely screams her style." Said Ethan.

"Have you known her long?" Asked Merit.

"Apparently, I don't know her all that well, if she is trying to pull off this stunt. But I have known her for centuries." Replied Ethan.

Catcher took our drink orders - vodka tonic for Mal, gin and tonic for me - while we headed for the last available mirror backed table. We slid against the wall, leaving the outside seat for Catcher.

"Gorgeous place," Mallory yelled over the din, surveying the room. "I can't believe we haven't been here before."

I nodded, watching the dancers move, taking the drinks Catcher handed us when he returned. One song ended and a second one begin instantaneously, the opening beats of Muse's 'Hysteria' ringing through the club. Eager to dance, I took a quick sip of my drink and grabbed Mallory's hand, pulling her to the dance floor. We shuffled through the throng, finding a gap in the crush of designer clad bodies, and danced. We shifted, moved, swayed hips and arms, and let the music overtake us, swallow us, beat the worries from our minds in time to the raging synthesizer. we stayed on the dance floor through that song and another, and another, and another, before tunneling back through the bodies for us break, a seat, a drink. (And we'd left Catcher guarding our purses, so we felt a little duty bound to go back.)

Mallory slid into the chair next to him, filling him in on her fabulous dance experience, his eyes a light with amusement as she chatted with vital animation, pushing her hair behind her ears as she talked. I sipped my cocktail and down the water That waited for us.

Suddenly, the song ended and the club became silent, even as strobes flashed around us. A haze of fog began to flow around our feet, a prelude to the ominous beating vibe of Roisin Murphy's "Ramalama" which began to spill through the room. The club's dancers, who'd paused tremulously between songs, waiting for the signal to move again, screamed joyously, and began thrusting to the music once again.

We rested for a few minutes, chatting about nothing in particular, when Catcher took the drink from Mallory's hand, deposited it on the table, and led her back to the dance floor. When she turned back to me, her face radiating shock that he'd had the nerve to expect her to follow without a fuss, I winked back.

I rolled the ice around in my drink, watching Mallory blush as Catcher swayed against her, when a voice next to me suddenly asked, "Good song, don't you think?"

"Wonder who that is?" Asked Lindsey.

"I bet its a Navarre vamp." Said Luc in response.

"I wonder if that will be a problem. Navarre tends to keep to themselves." Said Ethan. He did not like someone hitting on his girl.

I looked over surprised to find a smiling man with his arm stretched along the booth behind me. His hair was cropped, vaguely wavy, and dark brown, framing cut cheekbones, a cleft chin, and a strong jaw dotted with a day's worth of stubble.

"He sounds familiar, but I don't think I know yet who it is." Said Luc, looking thoughtful.

But for all that he was handsome, it was the eyes that pulled me in, that focused the attention. That accelerated the pulse. His were dark, and set beneath long, dark eyebrows. He peered at me beneath long, black lashes, his gaze seductively masked. The lashes rose, fell, rose again.

Sexy Eyes wore a fitted black leather jacket - trim lines, Mandarin collar, very alt rock - over a black shirt that snugged his lean torso.

"Sexy eyes? Really?" Asked Ethan to Merit.

"Well, I think green eyes are sexier." Merit answered, blushing.

Ethan smiled and said, "Your blue eyes are sexy too."

Catcher cleared his throat to get the lovebirds' attention. Merit blushed redder but began reading again.

Around one wrist was a watch with a wide leather wrap band. Altogether, the look was urban, rebellious, dangerous, and damn effective on a vampire. And he was definitely a vampire.

"Its a great song," I answered , having finished my look see, and inclined my head toward the dance floor. "And the kids seem to like it."

He nodded. "So they do. But you aren't dancing."

"I'm taking a breather. I was out there for nearly an hour," I told him, practically yelling to ensure that he could hear me over the pulsating music.

"Oh? Like dancing, do you?"

"I get around." Realizing how that sounded, I waved my hands. "That's not what I meant. I just mean I like to dance."

He laughed and settled a bottle of beer on the table. "I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt," he said, smiling softly and giving me the full on look of his eyes. They weren't brown, as I'd first thought, but a kind of mottled navy blue.

And I was struck by the thought that when he finally kissed me, they would flash and deepen, silver pulsing the edges -

"Wait, what?" Merit asked. "Why would I suddenly want him to kiss me?"

"He's trying to glamour you." Said Malik. He'd been quiet most of the chapter, content to just listen to the story.

Merit frowned. She felt like her book self was being taken advantage of.

Ethan squeezed her hand.

Wait. When he finally kissed me? Where in God's name had that come from?

I narrowed my gaze at him, guessing the source of the trickery.

"Did you just try to glamour me?"

"It seems that you have some resistance to glamour. A great skill to have." Said Ethan, smiling. He thought Merit would make a superb vampire. He told her so. Merit was starting to make her decision.

She was leaning towards vampirism, but she wanted the approval of her grandfather first. She decided to ask him after the chapter.

"Why do you ask?" His expression was innocent. Too innocent, but a corner of my mouth twitched anyway.

"Because I'm not interested in finding out what color your eyes turn when you kiss."

He grinned wickedly. "So its the condition of, what, my mouth that's on your mind?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically, and he laughed and tipped back his beer, taking a swallow. "You're wounding my ego, you know."

I gave his body, at least the portion that wasn't hidden under the table, a quick appraisal. "I doubt that," I told him, and took a heartening sip of my own cocktail. A quick glance around the club confirmed my suspicion, revealing more than a few women - and a handful of men - whose eyes were glued to the man beside me. Given the intensity of their gazes - and my penchant for stepping on toes - I wondered if he was some kind of vampire celebrity I was supposed to know about. Afraid of being gauche again, I didn't want to come right out and ask, so I decided to carefully steer my way toward an introduction. "You come here a lot?"

"Liege, I think I know who it is." Said Luc. "I think its Morgan."

"Who's Morgan?" Asked Merit.

"He's the Navarre version of me." Answered Malik. "He's their Second.

" Oh that might not be good." Said Mallory.

He wet his lips and looked away briefly, then back at me, grinning wildly like he knew a special secret. "I'm here quite a bit. I don't remember seeing you before."

"It's my first time," I admitted. I inclined my head toward Mallory and Catcher, who swayed at the edge of the crowd, their bodies mashed together from the waist down, their hands at each other's hips. Quick work, I thought, grinning at Mallory when she caught my eye.

"I'm here with friends,"I told him.

" You're new - newly made, I mean. "

"Four days. And you?"

"It's impolite to ask someone his age."

"But he just did!" Merit exclaimed, eyebrow raised.

I laughed. "You just did!"

"Ah, but this is my place." That explained the secret smile, but since I knew nothing about the club, it didn't give me any helpful information about who he was.

"Can I get you a drink?"

I held up the half full cocktail in my hand. "I'm good. Thanks, though."

He nodded and sipped his own beer. "How are you finding vampiredom?"

"If it were a house," I answered after some serious consideration, "I'd call it a fixer upper."

He snorted, then covered his nose with the back of his hand while sliding me an amused glance. It made me smile to think that even cute vampire boys got beer up their noses. "Well said."

I grinned at him. "We do try. How do you find vampiredom?"

He crossed his arms, cradling the beer against his chest, and gave me a once over. "The perks are nice."

"Gonna have to do better than that line." Said Mallory.

"I know, right?" Lindsey said, looking at Mallory. She could see herself being friends with both girls.

"Oh, come on. Surely you've got better lines than that."

He looked heartbroken. "I'm pulling out all my best material."

"Than I'd hate to see the bottom of that barrel."

He put a hand on my shoulder and moved closer, the motion sending little sparks across my skin, then panned an outstretched hand in front of us. "Imagine a landscape of nothing but astrology references and naughty limericks. That's what you're going to reduce me to."

I covered my heart in mock sympathy. "I'd say that I'm sorry to hear that, but mostly I'm sorry for the women who have to listen to it."

"You're killing me here."

"Not my fault that you're lines are terrible." Merit said to the book.

Everyone looked at each other and Chuck said, "I got this. Baby girl, you realize that you are talking to a book."

Merit looked up and blushed. She didn't even realize it. Ethan squeezed her hand, which he still held. She wasn't so embarrassed any more and just shrugged.

"Oh, don't blame this on me," I said on a laugh. "It's the material that needs work."

"Oh, I blame you," he said solemnly. "I'm going to die a lonely man -"

"You're immortal."

"I'm going to live a long, lonely life," he quickly corrected, slouching down a little in the booth, " because you're being overly critical about my pick up lines."

I patted his arm, the muscle firm beneath my hand, and felt a sympathetic blush cross my cheeks. "Look," I told him. "You're a nice looking guy." Under. Statement. "I doubt you need pick up lines. There's probably a desperate woman out there just waiting for you to come along."

He mimicked pulling a knife out of his chest. "Nice looking? Nice?! That's the kiss of death. And you think a desperate woman is the best I can do?" He made a frustrated sound, the effect which was dampened by the impish tilt of his mouth. Putting the bottle back on the table, he stood up. I thought I managed to scare him away, until he held out a hand. I raised questioning brows.

"Since you've wounded me, I figure you owe me a dance."

"Well, that was forward of him. To just assume I would take his hand." Said Merit, looking around at everyone.

Ethan sighed. "But I bet you will take his hand anyway." He was not liking this chapter. His inner possessive beast was telling him to claim his girl and to let the world know.

There was no room for debate in the pronouncement, no space for error or adjustment. Was it the male vampire mind, I wondered, that precluded the possibility of discussion? That couldn't comprehend a challenge to authority? Or maybe it was an authority issue. Based on what I'd heard about his sports fixation, I didn't think this was Scott Grey, the head of the House that bore his name. Whoever he was, he exuded that same sense of purpose ad Ethan. He was high on the ladder, whatever House claimed him.

And I, of course, was a lowly Initiate. But a lowly, single Initiate, so I stood up and took his hand.

"Good," he said, eyes twinkling, then linked our fingers together and led me to the dance floor, which gave me another chance to appraise. He was a couple of inches taller than me, maybe right at six feet. His bottom half was as rock and roll as his top - dark, distressed jeans that perfectly encased his long legs, black boots, and a thick leather belt that held the jeans at his hips. And best of all, a divine tush that was perfectly framed by the designer denim. The man was a walking Diesel ad.

"Don't need to know that you notice things like that." Said Chuck, grimacing.

"Trust me, I don't want you knowing that either." Merit said, blushing red once again.

When he found a spot for us, he turned back to me and lifted my hands around his neck, put his hands at my hips, and moved in perfect syncopation to the music. He didn't try complicated dance steps - no twirls, no bends, no demonstrations of his prowess. But he moved his hips against mine in time to the throbbing beat, all the while staring down at me with a quirky half smile. Then he wet his lips and leaned forward. I thought he meant to kiss me, and I flinched, but instead he said, his lips close to my ear, "Thanks for not refusing me. I'd have to slink out of my own club."

"I'm sure your ego would have withstood it. You're a big, strong vampire, after all."

He chuckled. "Somehow, you don't seem all that impressed with vampiredom, so I wasn't sure I had that to recommend me."

"Fair enough," I gave him. "But you've got really nice...shoes."

He blinked, then cast a dubious glance at his boots. "They were in my closet."

I snorted and plucked at the sleeve of his jacket. "Please. You've been planning this outfit for a week."

He burst out laughing, throwing his head back to revel in the moment. When he settled down again, occasionally wracked by aftershocks of laughter, he smiled keenly down at me. "I admit it. I give a shit what I look like." Then he plucked at the thin cap sleeve of my shirt. "But look what it got me."

There was no response I could give to that other than to beam at him for the compliment, so that was exactly what I did. He smiled back and put his hands at my hips, and I settled mine to the firm curves of his shoulders, and we danced. We danced until the song changed, jumping immediately to something faster, something stronger, and then we kept dancing - silently, intently, as bodies moved around us.

I realized then that part of the buzz, of the vibration of my limbs, wasn't from the raucous music. It came from him, from the tangible him of power that rode beneath that trim, stage ready form in front of me. He was a vampire, and a powerful one.

The music changed again, and he leaned forward. "What if I asked for your phone number?"

I grinned up at him. "Wouldn't you like my name first?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "That's probably important information."

"Merit," I told him. "And you are?"

His response wasn't what I expected. His cheery grin faded, and he froze in place, even as people moved around us. His hands dropped from my hips, and I self consciously tugged my hands back from his shoulders.

"Morgan. Navarre, Second. Which House are you?"

"I knew it was Morgan." Said Luc, happy he was right.

"I have a feeling that he is not going to like Merit's answer. It may cause problems." Said Malik. Ethan nodded, agreeing with his Second.

That explained the vibe of power. I had a bad feeling about his reaction to my answer, but offered anyway, tentatively, "Cadogan?"

Silence, then: "How did you get in here?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

"How did you get in here? My club. How did you get in here?"

His gaze took on a steely glint, and I guessed that flirty, getting to know you time was over. Then I remembered Catcher's words, his warning that Cadogan was looked down upon for drinking from humans.

I scanned his face, trying to read his expression, trying to gauge if that was where the sudden anger had come from - some irrational bit of House discrimination. "Are you joking?"

He grabbed my hand and yanked me through the dancers off and away from the dance floor. When we were back in the club proper, he forced me to a stop and glared at me. "I asked how you got in here."

"This Morgan seems like kind of a jerk." Merit said frowning.

"I'll say." Said Mallory with Lindsey nodding in agreement.

Silently, Ethan was happy. His girlfriend was not liking the competition. Then he realized that Merit had never even met Morgan. At that he smiled.

"I came through the front door just like everyone else. Would you just tell me what's wrong?"

Before he could answer, his troops arrived, a cadre of vampires who clustered around him. Front and center was Celina Desaulniers, Chicago's most famous vampire. She was as beautiful in person as she was on TV. A pin up worthy, comic book curvy vampire - slim build, long legs, tiny waist, voluptuous bosom. She had long wavy black hair that set off bright blue eyes and porcelain skin. Hiding very little of that skin was a short sheath dress of champagne colored satin, which was gathered into intricate folds at the bodice. Her heels matched the shade perfectly.

She looked at me with obvious disdain. "And who is this?"

Her voice was honey, thick flowing and effective, even on boy crazy me. I felt a brief, insistent urge to fall to her feet, to beg her or forgiveness, to move closer just so I could brush a hand against her skin, which I knew would be soft as silk. But I clenched my hands against what I belatedly realized was another Navarre attempt to glamour me, my resistance strengthened by the fact that Mallory and Catcher had joined us, and stood behind me supportively. Celina' eyes widened, and I guessed she was surprised the trick hadn't worked.

The vampires all looked at one another. The humans noticed.

"What?" Merit asked, looking at Ethan.

"Oh, just that you are a four day old vampire who can resist Celina's glamour."

"Is that a good thing?" Asked Mallory.

"Well, considering that Celina has one of the strongest glamours it is remarkable." Ethan said smiling at Merit. "If Merit decides to be a vampire, she will be exceptionally strong. At least mentally."

At hearing this Merit's decision was made. She decided to become a vampire. She had all the facts and support from friends and family that she needed. She was grinning from ear to ear when she looked at Ethan and declared, "I want to become a vampire."

At hearing this Ethan stood up and pulled Merit into his armd and spun her around. He then kissed her soundly to the applause of the others who were laughing with delight.

"I knew it." Said Mallory.

Merit looked toward her grandfather and asked him if he was okay with her decision.

He responded, "You made the best decision for you, and I'm proud of you." To that Merit walked over and hugged her grandfather.

"Can we get back to the story, please? I want to know what Celina does." Asked Catcher. Merit nodded. She reclaimed her seat next to Ethan and started reading again.

"Merit," Morgan crisply said, the tattletale. "Cadogan."

"Would someone please explain to me what the problem is?"

I got no response to the question. Instead, Celina looked at me, looked me over, arching a delicately shaped eyebrow. She repeated Morgan's name, an implicit demand.

"You need to leave," Morgan said. "We've got humans here, and we don't allow Cadogan vamps in the club."

I stared at him. What did they think I was going to do? Start munching on dancers? "Look, the guy at the door let my friends and me in here," I said, intent on making them understand, on pushing through blind prejudice. "We weren't causing any trouble - we were dancing. We certainly weren't harassing humans."

I looked to Morgan for support, but he only looked away. That small act of rejection, of denial, pricked. Frustration began to give way to anger, and my blood began to fire. I moved to take a step forward, but a hand at my elbow stopped me.

"The fight's not worth it," Catcher whispered. "Not for this." He gently tugged me back in the direction of the door. "Let's get out of here."

Celina looked at me again, and for a moment we were the only two vampires in the room. Whatever power she had - and it was far beyond anything I'd yet felt - crept toward me in slow amoebic tendrils. The length of a heartbeat, and I was wrapped inside it, enveloped by it. At first, I wasn't sure what she was trying to do - the impulse wasn't physically threatening, but it was aggressive. I didn't think she could injure me, but she tried to slink inside me looking for weaknesses, feeling out my strengths. She was sizing me up, here in front of her Second and her patrons, in front of Catcher and Mallory. She was assessing me, testing me, waiting for me to cry out, to step back, to fall beneath the barrage of power.

I knew I wasn't strong enough to put a wall against it, but neither would I give in, beg her to stop, cry uncle. And even if I had been strong enough, I didn't know how to fight it, how to battle against it. So I did the only thing I could think of - absolutely nothing. I blanked my mind, thinking that if I didn't fight her, if I put up no walls, it would skip and flow around me. That was easier said than done - I had to fight not to hold my breath as the air thickened, as it fairly pulsed with energy.

But I managed to keep my thoughts clear, stared back into her blue eyes, and let a corner of my mouth curve up.

Her eyes flashed silver.

In vampire terms, she blinked.

"Celina."

Morgan's voice broke the spell. I saw her concentration waiver, watched her body relax as the magic dissipated around us. She took a breath and slid her gaze to Morgan, schooling her features into haughty impermeability. "You've competition, pet, from Ethan's little plaything."

"What a bitch." Said Mallory. The other girls nodded in agreement.

I nearly growled, and nearly jumped forward to get to her (although God only knows what I would have done), but Catcher's fingers, still around my arm, tightened.

"Merit," Catcher softly said, "let it go."

"Take the advice, little toy," Celina told me.

I wanted to snark back, but that would give her what she wanted. I decided that I wasn't going to throw back anger or snarky words. No - this was my chance to play the better vampire. To play the cool, calm, collected girl. To play the Initiate who still remembered what it was to still be human.

I kept my gaze on Celina, and copied a move I'd seen Ethan make: I slid my hands into the pockets of my jeans, kept my posture businesslike, and let my voice go a little deeper, a little smokier. "Not a toy, Celina. But rest assured - I know exactly what I am." That the words fairly mimicked Ethan's didn't occur to me until much later.

Ethan kissed the side of Merit's head and said, "Great job."

Merit beamed.

"Good girl," Catcher whispered, and tugged my arm, leading me away. I followed with what little pride I had left, and managed not to throw back a glare at the brown haired boy who sold me out to his Master.

I kept quiet until we were a block from the club, and Catcher, apparently having deemed us safe enough distance away, offered, "Okay. Let her loose."

And I did. "I can not believe people would act that way! It's the twenty first century, for God's sake. How is it okay to discriminate? And what the hell was with Celina testing me?" I turned to Catcher, my eyes probably wild, and grabbed his arm. "Did you feel that? What she did?"

"You'd have to be completely oblivious not to feel it." Mallory put in. "The woman's a piece of work."

"I thought you said vampires didn't have magic?" I asked him. "What the hell was that?"

Catcher shook his head. "Vamps can't do magic. They can't perform it. They can't bend and shape it. But you're still born of that magic, that power, whether you call it vampirism genetic or not. You can sense it. Test it. And vamps can always do what vamps do best - manipulate." He pulled the Red flyer from his pocket again.

"They baited us," I realized. "They identified our cars, planted the fliers."

Catcher nodded and replaced the paper again. "She wanted a look."

"At me?"

"I don't know," he said, eyes on Mallory. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"And then there's Bedroom Eyes," I said. "I can't believe I fell for that pickup, actually danced with him. Do you think it was all a ploy?"

Catcher sighed, linked hands above his head, and gazed back at Red. "I don't know, Merit. Do you think he was plotting?"

He'd seemed sincere. Genuine. But who could tell? "I don't know," I decided. But you know what the moral of the story is?"

We'd reached the Volvo, and I paused in the process of unlocking the doors waiting to ensure I had their attention. When they both looked at me, I offered, "Never trust a vampire. Ever."

"That seems a little harsh to include all vampires." Said Luc. "That's like saying you can't trust all humans cause they all lie."

"Maybe I shouldn't lump all vampires together, but in the book, I have yet to meet a vampire that I feel that I can trust, what with my issues with Ethan, the Navarre vamps, and the only other vamps I've met briefly were you and Malik. Not exactly a lot to go on." Said Merit, trying to explain herself.

"You're right. That isn't a lot to go by." Said Ethan frowning. "You should be able to trust your Master and Housemates."

I was about to squeeze into the front seat when I noticed that the Hummer parked in front of my car bore a vanity plate that read, "NVRRE." Grinning impishly, I darted toward it and kicked one oversized tire. When the cars alarm began chirping wildly, I scrambled into my car, started it and hit the gas.

It didn't do much to the Hummer, but the catharsis was nice.

When we were on our way and blocks from the club, I met Catcher's gaze on the rearview mirror.

"All that drama because we drink?"

"In part," Catcher said. "The flyer got you into the club for a look; drinking got you kicked out. It's a convenient way for Celina to survey the city, have folks come unwittingly to her door."

"Unwittingly to her web," Mallory muttered, and I nodded. It was pointless, I suppose, to the the House I'd been born into, but what a way to enter the world of vampires. Four days out of the change and a chunk of Chicago's population decided they didn't like me because of my affiliation. Because of what others did. It stank of human prejudice.

Catcher stretched out in the backseat. "If it makes you feel any better, both of them will get what's coming to them."

"And you know this how?" Asked Merit, looking slightly astonished.

"Some sorcerers can predict the future, but not everyone knows what they are predicting." Catcher said.

"Will I be able to do that?" Asked Mallory, also looking amazed.

"Most likely."

I tapped fingers on the steering wheel as I drove, then met his gaze again. "Meaning what, exactly?"

He shrugged and averted his gaze, looking out the side window. Apparently he was psychic, too, our former fourth grade sorcerer.

"Catch, did you know this was going to happen? Did you know it was a Navarre bar?

Catch? I looked over at Mallory, surprised that they already progressed to nicknames. Apparently I'd missed some serious bonding on the dancefloor. But her expression showed nothing.

" Yes, Catch," I parroted, "did you set this up?"

"I wanted to check out the club," he said. "I knew it was a Navarre club, but it hadn't occurred to him that we'd been baited. I certainly didn't intend for us to get thrown out, to become actors in Celina's morality play, although I suppose it shouldn't surprise me. Vampires," he said with a tired sigh, "are fucking exhausting."

Mallory and I exchanged a glance as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Yes, dahling," she said, doing a lovely Zsa-Zsa Gabor imitation, "vam-piahs ah exhausting."

I faked a smile, and drove us home.

*page break*

I was brushing my teeth in ratty pajamas - an ex boyfriend's pale green T-shirt that read I'M A ZOMBIE and a pair of frayed boxers - when Mallory, still in her club clothes, rushed into the upstairs bathroom and slammed the door shut. I paused mid brush, and looked at her expectantly.

"So, I have to break up with Mark."

I grinned. "That may not be a bad idea," I agreed and resumed brushing. Mallory stepped next to me in front of the counter and met my gaze in the mirror.

"I'm serious."

"I know. But you were talking about breaking up with Mark before you met Catcher." I finished brushing, splashed a little water in my mouth, and spit. Thank God for friends who were close enough to watch you brush without getting grossed out.

"I know. He's not right for me. But its really late, and I need sleep, and I feel really weird about this I got my job because I wished for it thing. And then there's Catcher."

She quieted, obviously thinking, and her silence left a space for strains of noise from the downstairs television, which floated through the house. A narrator was describing the plight of a battered woman who'd overcome adversity, cancer, and desperate poverty to start a new life with her children.

I wiped my mouth on a towel and looked at her. "And the fact that he's downstairs watching the Lifetime channel again."

She scratched her head. "He finds it inspiring?"

I leaned a hip against the bathroom counter. "You should go for it."

"I'm just not sure. All of a sudden, about this, I'm not sure. Work, I'm sure about. Your fangs, I'm fine with. But this boy. He's got baggage, and magic, and I don't know..."

I hugged her, understanding that this wasn't just about Catcher, but her acknowledgement of the new shape of her life. Of the fact that her interest in the occult, in magic, had become something much, much more personal.

"Whatever you do," I told her, "I'll be here."

Mallory sniffed, pulling back to dab carefully at the tears that lay beneath her blue eyes. "Yeah, but you're immortal. You've got the time."

"You're such a cow." I walked out of the bathroom and flipped off the light, leaving her in the dark.

"Uh, who ate her weight in sausage earlier tonight?"

I laughed and walked into my bedroom. "Have fun with Romeo," I told her and shut the door behind me. In the cool quiet of the bedroom, it still being a couple of hours from dawn, I snagged back the blankets, lit the lamp next to the bed, and settled in with a book of fairy tales. It didn't occur to me that given the current shape of my life, I didn't need to read them. I was living them.

Sorry this took so long to get out. First I wasn't feeling the Chapter, then the family flew in and we had to deal with Thanksgiving madness.

Leave me a review please, it would make my day.


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